


Runners

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: AU, Angst, But Not Major Violence, Derse, Empire, Humanstuck, Lots of Angst, Multi, Powers/Gifts (Often Called Munerises), Prospit, Some Genderbent Characters, Some Romance Drama, Started This A Year Ago (So Apologies For Worse Writing At The Beginning), Uh..., Uh... Runners AU, Violence, What The Fuck Do I Label This
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"About one thirty-sixth of Derse’s population have special powers. Some, very few, are psionics like you; others have animalistic characteristics, some have even been known to fly, but the vast majority don’t even know. The Batterwitch can't stand us, so tried to wipe us out. Unfortunately for her, you can't stop genetics.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in the process of rewriting the chapters up to the teens, so I'll mark the updated chapters with a double horizontal line.  
> ~Webs  
> Also, sorry about all the tense and POV changes that'll happen within the next few chapters until I get it updated.

* * *

* * *

_Sneakers racing down the alleyway, their soles squeaking on the wet cement as they dodge and leap over bits of trash and mice that have made their home in the dark corners of bins and soggy papers. Two heads bob in time with their sprinting feet, passing in and out of the light of the streetlamps dotting the worn brick walls as the redhead of the two speeds up as they approach the cement wall that marks their escape. Two pairs of feet leap in unison off the wet ground, launching themselves straight at the wall. Two sets of hands find a purchase on the rough top._

_One set launches their owner clear over the top, while the other twists their bearer’s weight to spin their feet around and over the other side._

_Their two bodies land on the opposite side, two boys listening closely to the angered shout of their pursuers, and sharing a quick grin, before resuming their hurried pace, because these two boys know what happens if they were to be caught._  

* * *

 

Your family is poor. You’re not even going to deny it. You’re butt-fucking poor, and with a college-education in your future plans, you’re pretty much screwed sideways with a tuning fork.

You pretty much relied on your school’s End of the Year Relay Race, with the prize being two hundred dollars towards tuition. You are by no means a weak runner, and you spend almost every day training to make sure you’re the absolute fastest in your class; in a sprinting challenge, you’d have the money easy, but, unfortunately for you, your teacher partners up everyone in the class. Every fucking year, you’ve been landed with the slowest, stupidest, or assholiest students imaginable, and you have yet to even come close to winning. You’d kind of hoped that after five years of failed attempts since first grade, your teacher would take pity on you, but no. This year you’re stuck with the slowest of them all.

Karkat Vantas has always been the book you will forever judge by its cover. He may look small with his loose-fitting clothes, but underneath it, you’re positive he’s fucking chubby; it would make sense with his tendency in PE to without fail always be at the back of everything. Sprinting? Last. Endurance? A mile and a half behind. Pushups? Slowest and last one done. Rumor even has it he’s homeless, and living under the bridge with his dad; god, that would be perfect.

Of course, there’s always a rumor that he killed a police officer when he was three, so you’re not sure how much water anything said about him holds.

Regardless, Karkat Vantas is short as fuck, freckly enough for it to be a disease, and again, slow. So fucking slow. You don’t even think you’ve seen him run.

You don’t speak a word to him until the last day of school, in fact just avoiding him for fear of letting on how disappointed you were in being paired with him. When everyone gathers on the track around the back of the school, June heat curling its muggy fingers over your arm, you finally confront him. He raises a perfect red eyebrow in response to your demand not to fuck this up, before he snorts and strides away. You almost call him back, but think better of it and go to your starting position, spinning the baton in your hand.

You’ll be running first, passing aforementioned baton to Karkat halfway around the track, where he’s standing with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, like he doesn’t actually want this money; you tighten your grip on the baton and clench your teeth.

Almost missing the starting shout, you jerk yourself into movement, leaping forward into a sprint and easily pass your classmates. You keep your gaze on Karkat, watching as he goes from relaxed to determined the closer you get to him, almost slowing your legs in surprise. Instead, you push them harder, reaching forward blindly to give the baton to Karkat. You feel it slip out of your fingers as you’re sure the tuition money will, but, no.

Karkat goes off like a rocket, practically ripping the baton from your fingers to launch himself onto the track, sneakers practically flying over tartan. You slow to a stop, unable to keep your eyes off of him as he sails over the finish lines before anyone else has even gotten to their second partner, unable to jerk yourself from your surprise.

You vaguely hear a collective cheer from the surrounding spectators at Karkat’s (and your) victory, instead focusing on the look Karkat throws you from the other side of the track, one eyebrow quirked. The only thought that really registers is you don’t think you’re ever not going to be surprised by Karkat Vantas.


	2. Back Story: Headaches

BE THE BLACK HAIRED YOUTH OF THE PAST

I owed Karkat a lot after the relay, but I didn’t speak to him, even to thank him. Sixth grade passed without one word spoken to each other, hardly a glance exchanged in the hallways. Perhaps I didn’t like owing him anything, or perhaps I was waiting for him to make the first move.

He didn’t, not until mid-way through eighth grade.

 

It was after five o’clock when I decided it was time to leave the school. Loitering was something I was very good at, when I didn’t want to return home. Younger siblings sure took away the joy of the end of a school day.

I sighed and pushed open the door to the playground, walking out into the chilly November air of Skaia’s finest city. It wasn’t cold enough for snow, not yet, but it sure brought a bite to the breezes nicking at my exposed hands and face.

As I was stuffing said freezing hands into my pockets to try to combat the winter weather, I was hit with a crawling feeling, as if someone was watching me.

I turned my head and looked back at the school, which seemed to be where the look was coming from. At first, I couldn’t see anybody, but then my eyes fell on the roof, and on a boy crouching there. He was perched on the eves of the roof like a gargoyle, and he was looking _right at me_.

He had reddish-brown hair with what looked like faded black tips, had even redder irises and was wearing gray jeans and a gray and black sweatshirt. There was a funny red symbol on the pocket, kind of looking like a six and a nine turned sideways.

Something about him looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it until he called out my name, confirming that he had indeed been looking at me.

“Sollux Captor.” I turned myself completely around to let him know I was listening, and spied a hand-woven, black necklace around his throat, bearing a small silver feather charm.

It was then that it dawned on me.

“Karkat Vantas?” He jumped off the roof and landed easily with eerie, cat-like grace. He didn’t move from the spot where he landed, watching me with his rust-colored gaze. Had they always been that color, and I had just been too scared to look in his eyes? And his hair. I distinctly remember it being ashy-black when we had won the race in fifth grade. “Long time no see, Vantas.” My lisp of fifth grade was gone thanks to extensive speech therapy by my aunt, and Karkat raised his eyebrows, as if remembering aforementioned lisp.

“Long time to see.” His tone was careful, as if he was wary of me. If anything, I should have been wary of _h_ _im_. It looked like he had been waiting for me to leave the school. Why wasn’t I disturbed by that fact?

“Is there something wrong?” I inquired, cocking my head to the side curiously.

“You haven’t... seen anything strange recently, have you?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Strange how?”

“Strange as in dangerous.” He said that with a completely straight face, so I was unsure if he was screwing with me.

“No, I haven’t seen anything. Why?” He looked away, chewing his lip thoughtfully.

“Then it hasn’t happened yet...” He muttered quietly to himself.

“What hasn’t happened yet?” Over the past three years, ever since the relay, people had spread some pretty crazy rumors about Karkat, some including gang-involvement, drugs, and stealing, among other... less-savory things. I didn’t believe any of them, except for the one my best-friend had told me: Karkat Vantas didn’t... _see_  things the same way as we did. I could certainly believe that.

Karkat met my gaze for a split-second, then turned away.

“Nothing.” With that, he started walking, leaving me confused as fuck.

“H-Hey! Wait! You’re not just going to leave, are you?” He cast a smirk over his shoulder at me, and didn’t pause until he reached the gate leading around to the front of the school.

“Be safe on your way home, Captor. Not everything is what it seems.”

 

I kicked a piece of gravel angrily, sending it skidding about ten feet before it hit a trash can with a clang. I took pride in being the top of my class, and feeling stupid was not something I was used to. And right then, I felt pretty stupid.

Like, what the hell had Karkat been saying? I didn’t have a fucking clue, and that just made me angry. Who the hell did he think he was anyway? Telling _me_  to be careful? _He_  was the one who was homeless!

All the way home I pondered Karkat’s warning, and wondered what he could have meant by “dangerous”. Everything was fucking dangerous in Derse. Only people with a black belt could walk around after dark, and those who didn’t were jumped and either killed or beaten to the point of disability. A kid in my class, Tavros Nitram, had been unlucky enough to be caught outside after night had set in, and he had been attacked by one of the most notorious gang-leaders Derse had to offer: Vriska Serket. It was a miracle he had survived and had only been paralyzed. It could have been worse, like what happened to that Hussie kid.

I shuddered in remembrance. Andrew Hussie had been a senior in highschool, and was a famous web-author. He killed off one of the main characters, and was jumped by a rabid horde of fans. It took the police weeks to recover all the pieces of him.

“Sollux!” A little girl’s voice giggled loudly. I shook myself from my revere and found I was already home, and Aradia was scampering down the steps of our house. I grinned and knelt down to welcome her hug.

“Hey, AA. You miss me?” She only giggled in response, telling me to lift her into my arms. I complied, and would have made it through the front door, if it had not been for the explosion of black hair and grins that had collided with my legs.

I laughed and scooped up Aradia’s twin, Feferi, as well and finally made it into our small home. It was far too small for a family of our size, but we made do. Along with Feferi, Aradia and myself, there was also our older siblings Eridan and Equius, and Equius’ girlfriend Nepeta was staying with us  while her parents were remodeling their house.

I set the twins down before walking into the kitchen, where my two dads were cooking dinner. Most people assume, to avoid any confusion, that we called them by their first names, but we just called them both dad. They were generally very good about guessing which one we were asking for.

Dad #1, Jaden, looked up from the frying pan and smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Welcome home, Sollux. How was school?”

“Fine.” I sat at the breakfast table, pulling out the remains of my homework; I usually do most of it at school during lunch and recess. I only had to finish a couple math problems, then I’d probably have to entertain Feferi and Aradia until dinner.

“Um, Sollux, can we speak to you for a moment?” I looked up, both my dads stopping what they were doing to join me at the table.

Their serious faces made me nervous, and I slowly closed my math book to give them my full attention.

“Is something going on?” They exchanged a glance.

“Sollux, we’ve been meaning to tell you, but we’ve been putting it off, way longer than we should.” I felt my stomach curl apprehensively. “Your father and I... We’ve decided to get married.”

I let out the breath I was holding with a huff, sliding almost out of my chair.

“Jesus christ.” I mumbled breathlessly.  “That’s it?” Dad #2, Daniel furrowed his brow confusedly.

“What else would it be?”

“N-Never mind.” I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to shake my unease. Karkat’s warning had made me jumpy beyond belief. “Dude, I’m really happy for you guys. When’s the wedding?”

 

It was when we were cleaning up from dinner that it happened. I was carrying my sisters’ plates to Equius, who was at the sink, and everything was completely normal, until a headache hit me like a gunshot.

I dropped the plates and let them shatter on the floor as my hands flew up to my head and my knees buckled underneath me. I was vaguely aware of shouting, Feferi and Aradia’s panicked screams, and several people shaking my shoulders, but when what feels like an elephant is trying to blend your brains with a blunt steak-knife, it kind of distracts you.

The only time I had ever gotten a headache before then was when I had a cold followed by a fever, but that was nothing compared to this. This made me completely lose any recognition of the world, wracked my body with trembles, and I could only see darkness. Darkness and a sharp pounding that made me want to scream, but I couldn’t find my voice. Wave after wave of blinding pain cut its way through my head, and seemed to take a little bit of my sanity with it.

Then there was something else. A... A voice? It was yelling something, and I didn’t recognize it as one of my family members. It seemed warped, as if trying to make its way to me through motor oil. It took several tries, but it finally made its way to my ears.

“SOLLUX!”

My eyes flew open, my headache disappearing in a flash, leaving behind only a slight, dull throbbing.

My family surrounded me in horrendous panic, and even Eridan looked concerned. Nepeta had a phone in her hands, having apparently called 911; Equius was trying to calm my sisters down by shielding me from view, and my dads refused to let go of my shoulders. They were yelling for Equius to get Feferi and Aradia up to their room, for Eridan to stop standing there like an idiot and go get me a jacket.

I pondered why for second, then my dads noticed my eyes open and told everybody to shut up.

“S-Sollux?” I slowly removed my hands from where they had tangled themselves in my hair, and drew several, shaky breaths.

“Are you alright?” My gaze found the blue one of Jaden, and I nodded, though the movement caused me some pain. What the hell had just happened?!

My mind immediately jumps to Karkat’s warning. That didn’t have anything to do with this, did it?

“Nepeta, you told the doctor we’re bringing him over?”

“Of course.” Was her squeaky response. Great, I’d scared the living shit out of her.

“Sollux, we’re taking you to the hospital, okay?” Absolutely no complaints there. I wanted to know what the fuck was wrong with me.

 

“W-What... What the hell is a psionic?” I managed to get out, staring intently at the shiny floor of the hospital room. My whole family, dads included, were shut outside, with only the tiny window through which to see me. Why weren’t they letting my dads in? This seemed like some pretty serious stuff, stuff, you know, was _worthy_  of being told to your parents.

“You’re gifted, Mr. Captor. Gifted with something extremely rare.” I glanced up at my doctor, some nut with sandy hair and a lab-coat. I honestly didn’t like the look of him, and he seemed just as ready to dissect my brain as he was to give me a lollipop.

“What do you mean gifted?” He smiled, and it looked either kind or homicidal. I’ll always hate people that have faces like that.

“Some of Derse’s citizens, people like you, have special gifts allowing them to use powers normal humans can’t. Yours are very much like psychokinesis, but we call it psionics.”

“Psychokinesis is when you can move shit, right?” He nodded. “U-Um, why can _I_  use psionics?”

“We don’t know why certain people have these abilities, but we _do_  know how to teach you to use them.” I glanced at my family, wanting desperately to have someone in there with me.

“W-Why can’t my dads be in here?”

“Because they aren’t cleared to have this information.” That made me jerk back around to face him.

“What do you mean ‘ they haven’t been cleared’?”

“Mr. Captor, you must understand. You have a very rare gift, and many would want to exploit that. We must keep you secret, we must keep you safe.” And hell, I believed those words.

Maybe it was fear that allowed me to be led through the door on the other side of the room, away from my family, or maybe I had just gone completely batshit crazy. Either way, it thrust me headlong into some deep shit I probably didn’t want to get involved in.

 


	3. Back Story: The Blur On The Bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note the Zodiac-thing: they are based on just some of the personality or weapon traits associated with the signs, and are not necessarily in parallel with the Trolls. While Hussie did keep some of the associated personalities with the Trolls, not all of them are perfect, and he used quite a bit of artistic inference, so mine aren't perfect either.

“Mr. Captor, these nice people will take you to a safe house, where you’ll be with others that have powers.” The doctor directed me to two guys in suits, who were waiting by a car with blacked-out windows. That probably should have been my first clue.

But _damn_ , that car was nice. Beige, plush seats welcomed me, and the soft purr of the engine was quieted by all the leather that seemed to encase the thing. It would have been extremely comforting, if it had not reminded me of a padded room.

I sat between the two guys in suits, and they refused to look at me. They kept their silence, eyes hidden behind dark shades, like I was in some kind of spy movie. I had caught a peek at their hollisters, and both had two pistols hidden under their blazers. They were completely tense, always looking out the windows, as if waiting for something. That should have been my second clue.

But me, being scared out of my fucking mind, did not take either of these clues as anything of importance, not until the third clue made itself apparent. That’s when I decided I needed to get the fuck out of there.

Said third clue was when we crossed the bridge, taking us over the river and out of the city. I’d gone out of the city once as a family outing, and I can assure you, it’s completely _empty_. Nothing for fucking thousands of miles. I doubted there was anything between here and Prospit, our sister city, which lay over ten thousand miles away.

The driver seemed to know that too, because he pulled over, just on the other side of the bridge. The two suits didn’t relax, instead tensing _more_ , if that was even possible. I saw one reach inside their jacket for their gun, and that was about the time I kind of started to freak out.

I needn’t have though, because I was about to be treated to yet another surprise by Karkat-freaking-Vantas.

 

Something landed on the roof of the car with a very loud THUD, jerking all our heads upwards, followed by a light scurrying sound over the metal. Then a window on our left exploded, seemingly on its own. We were showered with the glass, but didn’t have any time to recover before the windshield exploded as well, knocking the driver unconscious. One of the suits grabbed my collar and the other took out his gun to point it at me. He barely got his hand on the hilt though, before his door flew off, and something dragged him out of the car. Me and the other suit watched somebody yank him over to the bridge railing, and then haul him over, as if he was nothing but a sack of flour.

At this point, I was eager to see the assailant, but they were gone from their place by the railing before I could blink, and apparently on the other side of the car to yank the last suit out, unfortunately taking me with him.

The suit’s grip did loosen enough in surprise for me to be thrown to the dusty asphalt of the road. The breath was knocked out of me, so I lay there for a second, reclaiming it. Once I had enough oxygen to survive, I forced myself over onto my stomach and blurrily watched the suit being taken down by a streak of gray and red.

The attacker was nothing but a blur, landing punches and kicks before the suit could even react. The suit looked pretty comical, flailing around like that, trying to find purchase on any form of skin. Out of sheer luck, he eventually did land one blow, but that was enough to send the blur flying. I watched as it came skidding to a stop twenty feet down the bridge, remarkably still on his feet. I still couldn’t tell his identity, thanks to all the dust kicked up by his skidding, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him.

I watched him slowly straighten, but then he wasn’t there anymore, and there was a strangled scream coming from the suit.

I jolted into a sitting position, staring as the suit slowly keeled back onto the ground, the blur sitting on his chest. There was a gurgling sound emitting from the suit, and, for some reason, I wanted to throw up.

Then the blur stood, though he wasn’t a blur anymore. He looked like a kid, barely my age! In the flare of the sunset his hair looked like it was on fire, and his eyes even more so, when he turned to look at me. Was it possible to have such brilliantly colored eyes?

I felt frozen in place, even when the kid made his way to me  through broken glass and the car door and crouched down in front of me. I was a little distracted by the fact that he was familiar.

“Are you alright?”

“K-Karkat?” He grinned, flashing a mouth of immaculate teeth. Are everybody’s canines that pronounced?

“Glad you recognize me, Captor. That makes this all much easier.” He stood and offered down a hand, which I hesitantly took.

I looked around at the wreckage of his attack, refusing to believe he was the one who did it all.

“H-How did you... do all this?” He laughed.

“You didn’t think you’re the only Runner in Derse, did you?”

“Wait, you a psionic too?” He shook his head.

“Nah, those are pretty rare, though not as rare as others.” He grinned again, and he looks genuinely happy. “Damn, Sollux. I should have known you’d be a Runner.” I was about to ask why he kept calling me that, but his grin snapped as he seemed to realize something. “Shit, it’s almost dark.”

“Yeah, people’ll probably try to jump us if we don’t get inside soon.”

“I’m not worried about the people. I’m worried about the river.”

 

He had barely given me time to comprehend what was going on before he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me towards the end of the bridge, where the metal became dusty desert. Around the edge of railing, the cliff sloping down to the river was almost vertical, and looked like it would be pretty painful to slide down.

I should have known we’d be doing just that.

Without any hesitation to speak of, Karkat pulled me behind him and laughed at my reaction of, you know, flipping the fuck out. I was correct about the fact that the way down was painful, with sharp stones and scraggy desert plants, but there was something very comforting about Karkat’s hand gripped around mine.

Before I knew it, we were at the bottom of the slope, and a beach of smooth stones stretched about ten feet in front of us. The bridge cast ominous shadows in the dying light, blanketing much of the river in complete darkness.

I could see what Karkat had to be worried about: with the appearance of the moon, the river’s water level was already rising, lapping further and further up the beach.

“Can you swim?” I glanced at Karkat, who was taking off his hoodie and tanktop. Shit, we was ripped. “Hurry up and take off your clothes.”

“E-Excuse me?” He was already stripping down to his boxers and making a bundle of his clothing.

“If you wanna have dry clothes on the other side, I suggest taking them off now.” He threw a belt at me; he’d apparently been wearing two. “So, can you swim?”

“I-I guess...” I timidly followed suit, and made a makeshift parcel with the belt holding it all together, telling myself it was stupid to be embarrassed by how thin I was. Karkat made no remark of it, for which I was thankful.

“I don’t think we’ll have to, but it’s later than I thought, so the river might get a little deep near the middle.”

“Why can’t we cross the bridge?” He gave me a look like I was insane.

“After that little show up there?” He jerked his thumb at the destroyed car. “Nah, we’d be killed before we got halfway across. Plus, it’s easier to get to Crabdad’s from the beach.”

“So you actually live under the bridge?” He shrugged.

“More or less. You’ll see when we get there. C’mon, the river’s not getting any warmer.” He wasn’t kidding: I thought I was stepping into a glacier.

Karkat told me to hold my clothes above my head so they wouldn’t get wet, and he did the same, and I’m sure to any passerby, we’d have looked idiots. But who’s going to be looking in the river?

When I’d voiced this question aloud, Karkat laughed, and told me half the Batterwitch’s guard were going to be looking for us. I didn’t ask who the Batterwitch was; I didn’t want him to know I didn’t know fuck about what was going on.

Karkat was right about the river getting deeper in the middle; it almost reached my armpits, and it had cleared Karkat’s shoulders. And it was _freezing_. By the time we’d reached the middle, my teeth were chattering, and I tried clamping them in my mouth to keep them still, but that did almost nothing. Karkat laughed at that, though he looked just as cold as I was.

I was infinitely glad when we reached the other side, and when Karkat said it was fine to put my clothes back on. Have you ever tried to put jeans on while you’re wet? Don’t ever do it.

Karkat seemed to have no trouble, as he was dressed and scouting for anything hiding in the shadows by the time I had got my pants halfway on. He must have done this a lot.

When I’d finally managed to dress, Karkat was watching me incredulously.

“Dude, in the future, steer clear of skinny jeans.” That’s when I noticed he was wear loose-fitted jeans, and realized those would have been much easier to put on than the skinny ones I had been wearing.

“Duly noted.” I muttered, and followed him as he beckoned me further down the beach, towards the underside of the bridge. I was still shivering, as my boxers were soaked through with ice-water, and Karkat noticed.

“We’re almost to Crabdad’s. You can borrow some warmer clothes there.”

“Crabdad’s” turned out to be “Crabdaddy’s”, a seafood restaurant on the edge of the river, nestled just in the shadow of the bridge. It looked a little seedy, but homey. It was decorated with a huge, blinking red sign with a crab on it and several large pieces of white driftwood. The lights inside were very welcoming, and there were even a few people eating there.

There were people. After nightfall. In a _restaurant._

Karkat, oblivious to that phenomenon, led me around to the side door with the warning “NO ENTRANCE” painted on it in bright red paint. Ignoring said warning, Karkat pushed open the door, which connected right to the kitchen. There was a burly man wearing a stained apron flying around the kitchen, flipping something here, adding spice there. He didn’t appear to have any helpers save for a teenage boy lounging lazily at the cash register. He looked kinda stoned, his head tipped so far back to stare the ceiling, his mass of curly black hair tumbled halfway down the back of the chair he sat in.

When we walked in, the burly man looked up from the grill, eyes finding me with surprise.

“Hey, Crabdad. I picked up the Runner I was talking about.” Karkat took off his hoodie and threw it over the front counter. At first, I thought “Crabdad” was going to start yelling or something, but instead, he straightened, wiping his hand on his apron to lightly slap the boy with the curly hair.

“Gamzee, wake up you lazy git and go get this poor boy some new clothes.” The one called Gamzee snapped to attention, literally saluting before sauntering off through another door. I looked down at myself, realizing my clothes were a complete mess. While they weren’t wet, it seemed the glass from the car had torn through several places, and there was a gaping hole on the left side of my sweatshirt, from what, I had no idea. “Welcome to Crabdaddy’s, sonny.” Crabdad smiled at me, and I hesitantly took his offered hand, casting a nervous glance in Karkat’s direction.

Karkat laughed.

“So, Crabdad, he can stay right?”

“Of course! Any Runner is welcome here!” Crabdad returned to his cooking, and I nudged Karkat with my elbow.

“Seriously, why do you keep calling me a ‘Runner’?” Karkat rolled his eyes, taking my arm to tug me through the door Gamzee had gone through.

The room we entered was large, easily fitting three beds, two desks and what looked like half a library begirding the left side of the room. At the end of each bed was a large trunk, two of which were closed tightly, but Gamzee was rooting through the the third.

Karkat left me standing by the door, with a quick “Wait here a minute”, and went over to the bed closest to the window, which was also the smallest. Karkat stepped onto his bed, the springs creaking loudly, and reached up to the ceiling, pulling down a trapdoor. There was no ladder or rope to climb, but Karkat easily pulled himself up into what I guess was the attic. It really shouldn’t have surprised me; he _had_  ripped the doors off a car and thrown a man three times his size over the side of a bridge.

“Here you go, motherfucker.” Gamzee stood in front of me, holding up a new pair of jeans and a comfortable looking sweatshirt. “Sorry ‘bout there being no shirt. ‘Couldn’t find one your size.”

“I-It’s fine.” I took the offered clothing. “Thanks.” Gamze just shrugged, an easy grin on his lips.

“No problem, motherfucker. ‘See you ‘round.” With that, Gamzee left to go back to the kitchen.

There was a loud grunt from the other side of the room, and when I looked, Karkat was hanging upside down out of the trapdoor. He had his lower legs tucked over the edge of hole the trapdoor made like some kind of trapeze, and was struggling to drop a fold-up cot onto his bed.

I set the clothes Gamzee had given me on a chair by the door and hurried over to help him with the cot. Damn, that thing was heavy. We managed through joint effort to get the cot onto the floor without Karkat breaking his neck, and once we were both on solid ground, he mumbled his thanks, but said he could have handled it.

I laughed at that.

Karkat showed me to the bathroom in the corner of the room, telling me to get changed while he found some kind of blanket. I waited for him to completely leave the room before changing quickly. The pants Gamzee gave me actually fit me, though I couldn’t say as much for the sweatshirt: it had to be at least three sizes too big, but it was suuuper fuzzy on the inside, so I didn’t mind. A shirt would have been nice though.

When I left the bathroom, Karkat had located several blankets and a pillow, and was fitting a sheet on the mattress of the cot. He looked up from his work, smirking.

“The sweatshirt looks a little big.”

“Shut up.” He laughed.

“Just toss out your old clothes. They’re no good.” He gestured to a large trash bin by the bathroom door, but I hesitated. What I’d done was kind of coming back to me now: I had run. I had left my family behind, and these clothes were the last tie I had to them.

Karkat watched me linger by the bin, and, almost as if proving something, I tossed them in rather forcefully. I turned back to Karkat, ignoring his gaze.

“So, you gonna tell me why I’ve been labeled a Runner?”

“Well, it’ll take a bit, so go ahead and sit down.” He jerked his chin to the chair, which I moved closer to him while he busied himself with making my bed. I straddled the chair backwards and waited patiently for him to begin.

He took a deep breath as he fitted a pillowcase around the pillow.

“Ok, so you already know you’re a psionic, right?” I nodded. “Then someone told you have powers most people don’t?”

“Yeah, my doctor.”

“Filthy gits, the lot of them. Anyway, about one thirty-sixth of Derse’s population have special powers. Some, very few, are psionics like you, others have animalistic characteristics, some have even been known to fly, but the vast majority don’t even know.” I furrowed my eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever met someone who can do complex math problems in their head? Or someone who’s really good at calming people down?” He shrugged. “They’re all like us, their powers just aren’t as highly developed, and aren’t as noticeable. They haven’t been found by the Batterwitch. ‘Course, she doesn’t give a fuck about math problems, unless its counting how many people she’s killed.” I tasted blood and realized I had been chewing my lip rather forcefully. I quickly stopped.

“That doesn’t explain what a Runner is.” He shot me a glare.

“I’m getting to that!” I closed my mouth pointedly. “So, these people with powers. Many of their powers develop around their fourteenth or fifteenth birthday, and, if the powers are noticeable enough, the people start freaking out, going to doctors, to the police, I’ve even seen someone go to the postmaster. Unfortunately for them, anyone remotely connected to the government is thereby connected to the Batterwitch, and it all goes downhill from there. You were headed in that direction, if you hadn’t noticed, by the way.”

“You mean with the suits?”

“Yep. They were gonna throw you over the bridge, dumbass. You do know there is literally _nothing_  between here and Prospit?” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Actually, I do know.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have trusted your doctor. He’s the one who told you to go with the suits?”

“Yeah.”

“You know, I didn’t really take you to be such an idiot.” He had finished making my bed by now and was stretching the bend out of his back. Having done that, he plopped down on his bed, yawning tiredly. “Well, I’ll take into account you were probably scared shitless.” I rolled my eyes.

“Thank you for being so generous.” He ignored me and continued, rubbing his face with his hand.

“So, anyone with powers that goes to some official for help is killed, make sense?”

“Yeah.”

“There are some, some who are smart enough to run. Gamzee was one of the smart ones.”

“You mean he has powers too?” I perked up, immediately interested. “What can he do?”

“Mess with people’s minds mostly. His probably aren’t as powerful as yours are gonna be, but he can still practically scare people to death. He’s also pretty good with numbers, and that’s good, because Crabdad can’t count for shit.”

“Are there other kind of powers?”

“‘Course. I already mentioned a few. Some have whiskers and tails, some can fly, some can scale a skyscraper in a matter of minutes. Some can hear stuff coming a mile away, some can do shit with glass, like break it on command--”

“Like you can?” He burst out laughing. “What?”

“I don’t have a shit power like _that_!”

“But what about earlier, with the car?” He sat up, still shaking with mirth.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a riot! Sollux, I broke those windows with my fist.” He showed me his knuckles, tiny little cuts dotting them like spider webs.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” He waved his hand passively.

“No biggie. I’ve had worse.” Like how much worse? I had just caught a glimpse down by the river, but scars were something Karkat was not unused to. I could even see some now, with his arms exposed without his hoodie.

“So, um, what are some other powers?”

“I’ve met someone who can tell you your deepest fear. Another guy passed through here a couple years ago, claiming he could turn invisible.”

“Claiming?”

“He never did prove himself, but none of us saw him leave.” He smirked, laying back down. “Crabdad used to know this cat burgler that could make things spontaneously combust, and Gamzee once dated a dude who could make plants grow at will. Anyway, there are a shit ton of powers, some rarer than other.”

“Like psionics?”

“Exactly. Crabdad and I have only heard of about a hundred people who have psionics.”

“A hundred is a lot of people.”

“Not when compared to over 27,000,000 people with powers.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So anyway, the majority of these people either don’t know about themselves, or were smart enough to run away. That’s what Runners are, Sollux. People with powers who haven’t been killed by the Batterwitch. That’s why there are so many of them roaming the city without the common people knowing. There are some safe houses for Runners, like this Restaurant. You saw that symbol below the crab on the sign?” I shook my head. The neon lights of the sign kinda made it hard to look directly at it for more than a second. “Then wait here a sec.” He went to one of the desks, rooted through it for a second, then came back with a pad of paper and what looked like a quill. A _quill_. I watched him as he carefully opened a pot of ink on his knee before dipping the end of the quill into it. Then he was quickly sketching a number of symbols on the paper. “Ok, pay attention, because I’m only going to explain this once. This symbol here,” He drew two backwards parentheses with a line through them. “means the Batterwitch. We mark buildings and streets frequented by the Batterwitch’s henchmen with these. This one,” a lowercase N with a loopy thing on the end. “means Hunters.”

“What are hunters?”

“People not under the control of the Batterwitch that hunt Runners. There’s a good many in Derse right now, and you’re gonna have to learn how to fight if you’re gonna survive.” He turned back to the paper, drawing an arrow with a line across the center, kind of making a cross with a point. “This means someone from the Batterwitch’s elite is out. They specialize in bow and arrows, thus the Sagittarius sign.”

“Sagittarius?” He glanced up at me, still bent over the paper.

“Duh. You didn’t realize these are Zodiac signs?” I shook my head again. “Do you know anything about Zodiac lore?” Another head shake. “Jesus. Ok, well the Zodiac signs are usually associated with something specific, like the Sagittarius is associated with the bow. The Capricorn,” he pointed back the funny shaped N. “is more often than not connected with rage. Hunters are kind of known to be bitchy, angry guys that don’t know when to stop. Is any of this making sense?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Ok then.  This one, Virgo,” A M with an extra little hump. “means a safe place to sleep. We have one out on our sign. Virgo is associated with mothers, therefore safety. The libra,” an omega sign with a line underneath it. “is used when something happens in Derse that needs fixing. The Libra is a set of scales, meaning justice, so Runners, when they see the sign, will meet at the designated house of the week to discuss how to change something.”

“Designated house of the week?”

“Crabdad’s restaurant is part of a group of people with big places to hold meetings. We change houses every week, so people aren’t constantly flocking to the same place. The Leo,” a circle with a squiggly tale, “is associated with cats, so Runners use it to tell others that something covert in going down in a building or street. If we see one, we don’t go into that building or street, ‘cause we’d probably fuck up what they’re trying to do. The Taurus,” a circle with what looks like two branches coming out of it. “is associated with the bull. This usually means we’re making a frontal assault on Hunters or Elites. We don’t do that often, so if you see this somewhere, get the fuck away.”

“What if its just an old one?” He shook his head.

“One we’ve already done something, we scratch out the symbol. You going to see a fuckton of scratched out symbols. Just ignore ‘em.” He drew another symbol, this one two sharply waved lines over each other. “We use Aquarius very rarely. It means a full-blown rebellion, and I think the last time it was used was in Prospit about ten years ago. The Gemini,” that one looked kind of like the Roman numeral two, but with curved lines on the top and bottom. “is used when there’s a dispute between two Runners, with two different opinions.” He was silent for a moment as he drew another M looking one, but instead of the extra hump like Virgo, there was an arrow coming off the end. “We use the Scorpio when we have a traitor within the Runners. We’re usually pretty tightly banded, but every now and then, the Batterwitch ropes a Runner in and uses them against us. Heard of Vriska Serket?” I sat up with surprise.

“The gang leader?”

“That’s the one. She’s the very definition of a Scorpio. She turned against us about three years ago, getting a lot of followers in the process, but most of them are just normal humans.”

“Isn’t she our age?”

“Nah, about five years older. Still, she’s pretty young to be controlling her own gang. Anyway, if you ever see someone’s marked down a fresh Scorpio, tell Crabdad or Gamzee. They know how to get the information out safely.”

“Got it.” Damn, this was a lot to take in. I tell myself to keep the paper and memorize all of their meanings.

“The last one is Aries.” That one looked kind of like a stick that had been split down the middle, with part of the two halves making curved branches. “This means somethings been discovered, usually about the Runners. There’re some Runners working in the deserts, looking through the ruined cities to see if there’s anything out there as to why we even exist.” He leaned back onto his hand, scratching his nose with the quill and leaving a black streak of ink.

I cocked my head, burning all of the symbols into memory. Twelve zodiac symbols meant twelve meanings. Capricorn meant Hunters, Sagittarius meant Elites, Scorpio meant traitor...

 _There’s only eleven._  I recounted, and sure enough, there was one sign missing. I listed them off in my head: Taurus, Aries, Gemini, Capricorn, Aquarius, Scorpio, Virgo, Leo, Pisces, Libra, Sagittarius...

“What about Cancer?” Karkat tensed, jaw clenching.

“Cancer doesn’t mean anything.” He hissed, looking away.

“What do you mean ‘it doesn’t mean anything’?”

“I mean it doesn’t mean anything! Cancer is useless! It has no purpose for Runners!” I didn’t understand what he had to be angry about then, and I wouldn’t for a long time, not until he was bleeding out in front of me, and I could do nothing about it.

 


	4. Back Story: Book of Runner Secrets.

Headaches don't plague most Runners, because many of their powers don't require the use of the mind. Unfortunately, when your powers use nothing BUT the mind, you tend to feel like the entire world is trying to force itself into your head by brutally shoving everything else out. They don't come in waves; no, they come all at once, relentlessly. When they hit, all you can do is fight back screams and wait for it to pass.

They always came at night, or early in the morning. Everyone else was always asleep when the universe decided it was time to try and kill me again. They didn't come every night, though they came far from sparingly. It was happening more often too, close to every other night, and I found myself wishing I never had powers. I would have gladly traded my powers a hundred times over if it meant the headaches stopped. Hell, I would have done _anything_  if it meant the headaches stopped.

I thought Sollux might get headaches too, but his powers were new; the migraines wouldn't be as painful, and psionics don't require the full use of the mind. Mine do, meaning the morning after I picked up Sollux was pretty much hell, except for the fact that in hell, you can scream about it. You can't scream about it in close proximity to three other people.

It was around one o'clock that morning when it hit, and left around six, leaving me with five hours of unbearable torture; longer than usual. They usually came and went within two hours, but Crabdad was already getting up to cook for the breakfast rush by the time it stopped.

I kept my face buried in my pillow until I was sure Crabdad was occupied with cooking. When I heard him turn on the big wok, I slowly rose from my bed and slipped into a pair of jeans. I didn't feel like looking for a shirt, as my clothing chest was rather creaky, so I climbed out the window above my bed shirtless.

Based on the training I had started when I was barely four, it was a piece of cake to climb up the drainpipe to the roof. I guess it also helped that I knew exactly where to place my hands and bare feet. The last handholds on the edge of the roof were worn from use, and that made it a little harder to pull myself up, but it wasn't nearly as hard as pulling a door off a car. Now _that_  was hard.

On the roof, the beachy slope up to the city stretched out in front of me. I could barely see the snaking path connecting the city to the beach because of the fog that blanketed the ground as much as the river. It made it look like the restaurant was on the waves rather than next to them. It must have been freezing, but I didn't notice; I always felt feverish after a migraine.

I groaned and slumped back onto the cold metal roof, my legs still dangling over the eves. I wouldn't be able to return to school for several weeks, but Sollux would never be able to. They knew for a fact that he was a Runner, and they would kill him before he set foot in the city again. His family wouldn't remember him, of course. I was willing to bet that doctor erased all memory of him; even the kids at the school wouldn't remember anyone by the name of Sollux Captor.

I sat up again, fists clenching against the roof. That was the problem with this fucking city: Anything different from their own was killed, and then all memory of them was destroyed. Far too many people had been forgotten; maybe that's why I fought so hard against the Batterwitch, because I had been forgotten too.

I rubbed my face with my hand, trying to wipe away the exhaustion. I couldn't let Crabdad know I hardly slept last night. I didn't _want_  him to know. I hated pity, and that's all I got when people knew how much I suffered. Gamzee knew of course, but that was against my will, though I didn't blame him. He couldn't control it, so it wasn't exactly his fault.

I stayed up there for several hours, hearing the sound of Runner and normal people alike going in and out of Crabdaddy's. I listened to their trivial conversations of weather, gas prices, school tuition and the like, wondering what it was like to lead a normal life like that. What would it be like to have your biggest worry be who was winning the Super Bowl?

You don't know how much I wished for a life like that.

It was around nine when Gamzee started waking up, marked by the honk-like grunt from the room below me. It usually took a good hour for Gamzee to fully wake-up, but I wasted no time in climbing back down to my bed. Gamzee was barely half awake, and Sollux still looked sound asleep, so I padded as quietly as I could past Sollux's cot to locate a shirt. My chest opened as loudly as a fucking foghorn, but it roused neither my new friend nor my self-proclaimed brother.

I pulled on a good work-shirt, wincing as the course material brushed my raw knuckles; breaking glass with just your fist isn't as much fun as it sounds. As I was searching under my pillow for the leather wristband Gamzee had gotten me last year for my birthday, the cot springs creaked and Sollux grumbled something that sounded like "KK?"

I looked back at him, to find him staring at me through blurry, half-lidded eyes. He seemed confused about whether to go back to sleep or start attacking me.

"KK?" He slurred again, confirming my suspicion of him still being mostly asleep. KK must have been a friend, or some family member that he left behind. He seemed to wake up a bit, rubbing his face. "What time is it?" He yawned. I rolled my eyes and, having found my wristband, reached over to shut the blinds against the rising sun peaking through the window.

"Far too early to be. Just go back to sleep." He grumbled again, but obeyed, turning over and hiking his blanket up to his neck.

Satisfied he'd be asleep for at least another hour, I put on a pair of shoes and joined Crabdad in the kitchen, who definitely needed help with the coming lunch-rush. I fell into the routine gratefully; anything to relieve my mind of Runners for a while was greatly appreciated.

Early on, Gamzee and I agreed I'd have the morning shifts, and he the afternoon and night shifts, because I was an early riser mostly thanks to my migraines, and at night? At night I had a job to do.

Based on aforementioned agreement, Gamzee wasn't required to take over until one o'clock, but I had been working barely two hours when he came out of the back room, a sleepy Sollux trailing behind him.

Crabdad told me there were few enough customers for me to start on our own breakfast. Since I knew Crabdad wouldn't eat unless I made him, and Gamzee was like a fucking carnivore in the morning, breakfast was a normal chore for me. Crabdad had been teaching me to cook since forever, so I easily had a plate of eggs and bacon ready for both Gamzee and Sollux within ten minutes, and was currently setting the plates down in front of them at their table in the corner. As I was turning around to start Crabdad's breakfast of shrimp and cornbread, something shot through me like a bolt of lightening.

Rage. _Murder_  rage.

I had mastered the art of masking my emotions, so only Gamzee noticed the flicker of fear that passed over my face, but he said nothing about it. He just watched me make my way back into the kitchen with a sad frown on his lips. I still don't know if its because of his powers that he always knew how I was feeling, or if it was a testament of how close we were because of what we'd been through. Yeah, Gamzee knew more about me than anyone, and he was probably the only one who deserved to.

Rage was a common emotion in Derse, common enough for me to usually block out, but every now and then (actually way more often than I'd like to admit), someone's rage toppled over to the point of killing someone. I _always_  felt that.

While grilling Crabdad's shrimp next to where he had a couple halibut fillets going, I felt a headache creeping up. I knew it wasn't going to be a migraine; I could always feel one of those coming, but it still brought a potent enough wave of exhaustion for my hand to slip and nearly burn on the stove. I swore softly, trying not to bring attention to myself, and it mostly worked, except I saw Sollux watching me out of the corner of my eye. He leaned over and whispered something to Gamzee, who in turn looked up at me as well. I tried to ignore them, but both were rather terrible whisperers.

"Is something wrong with Karkat?" I heard Sollux whisper to Gamzee.

"Motherfucker had a rough night." Was Gamzee's whispered response. "'Ts been happening more often than usual."

"What has?"

"Hmm... 'told me not to talk about it. Sorry bro." I sent a silent 'thank you' to Gamzee, which he picked up on and smiled.

I think Sollux noticed the exchange, but made no remark of it. In fact, he just looked kind of confused, though Gamzee's power more often than not confused people.

_Sollux probably doesn't even understand all the powers_ , I thought to myself while washing a few customers' dishes. _I bet the book would help..._  I was thankful when my shift ended, so I could beckon to Sollux to follow me. He rose from his seat without hesitation. That was good: he trusted me, and that'd make everything else easier.

"Get comfortable. You're going to be here for a while." I told him when we'd reached the back room, going over to one of the bookshelves on the left side of the room. Having memorized the placement of every book there, it wasn't hard to locate the one I wanted. The book I took from the shelf was big and heavy, and leather bound, covered in stains from repeated readings at the dinner table.

I handed it to Sollux, who dropped a little at its weight and looked up at me in confusion.

"Start reading, kid." His eyes just widened.

"What, the whole thing?"

"Of course. Almost everything we know about Runners is in there, compiled by Crabdad and a couple other guys a few years ago. There's stuff on almost every power we know of, there's a couple chapters on the Batterwitch, and a huge section on psionics." His mouth was slack in a gape, trying to read if I was serious or not. "If you're going to survive out there, you need to know _what's_  out there."

"What do you mean 'survive out there'? Won't I be going home?" Silence.

Did he seriously think he'd be able to go home, after what happened on the bridge? After he was almost killed by the Batterwitch's henchmen?

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not." He set the book on his cot before facing me again, anger speckling his features. Fuck, I could see a whole argument coming, and I honestly didn't have time for that right now. "Why can't I go home?"

"Sollux, once you've been discovered, they aren't going to let you return to your life before. If you try to make any contact to your family, the Batterwitch will know, and will know it was you. They'll find you and kill you, Sollux. It isn't _safe_  to go back." This was the sad truth I had grown up with, that Gamzee had grown up with. Having these powers stripped us of our lives, stripped us of any future life. That's why Gamzee was so adamant that I go to school: because it was the only normal thing I could achieve as a Runner, as a hunted.

"Yeah, how do you know?" Of course Sollux would want to return home; it was completely understandable, but he'd be putting his family in as much danger as he'd be putting himself in. "What if I snuck back, and didn't go back to school or something. I could still live with them, right?"

"Sollux, they won't even remember you." He closed his mouth with surprise, then his hands clenched.

"What do you mean?"

"Jesus Christ, do you know _nothing_? The Batterwitch is completely capable of erasing memories! Why do you think no one's heard of the increase in murders the past ten years?"

"What the fuck are you talking about? What murders?" So he really did know nothing. I had kind of expected the common people to completely forget all of their comrades, all of the soon-to-be Runners that had been killed over the past ten years. That _was_  the Batterwitch's intention, after all.

Hunters weren't ones to brag, so families didn't even know they had another son, or another daughter, or another niece. They didn't know their sister had been killed, their brother murdered.

"Sollux, I don't have fucking time right now." I really didn't; I had a job to do before night fell, and having this conversation with Sollux right now would certainly take hours, hours I didn't have to lose.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't!" I ignored his shocked look, and grabbed my hoodie. "Read the book. When you're finished, tell Gamzee. He can get me and then we can talk about your family."

\---

Having read the book countless times myself, I knew Sollux would be occupied past the time Crabdad would close up for the night, if he read it at all, giving me ample time to scout for my next target.

I found it pretty quickly; it's kind of hard to miss the massive cloud of dust caused by a semi-truck coming down the desert road from Prospit. It was probably heading for the center of Derse, where all the major stores were, meaning it had all the supplies we needed.

I listened intently to the sound of the truck from my perch on the third-support of the bridge, and calculated it would take five hours to reach said bridge. That was plenty of time to get the things I needed and some lunch; I still hadn't eaten. Gamzee always hated it when I didn't eat, and was always concerned for my health, because if he wasn't, who would? Crabdad didn't give a shit, and my parents--

I cut that thought off before it got any further and started climbing back down the metal supports. This being the only bridge in and out of Derse, it was large, green from the weather, and looked kind of like a smaller version of the old Golden Gate Bridge. It was Derse's pride and joy, but it was hardly used, since Prospit was so far away; there was no _reason_ to leave Derse.

Sollux was indeed reading when I opened the door to the back room, and seemed very intent on ignoring me. That was fine, since I really didn't want to restart our conversation.

I rooted through my trunk and quickly found my leather satchel, smoke pellets, rope and a hook-ended dagger. I shoved everything into the satchel except for the knife, which I strapped around my thigh with its similarly leather strap.

"KK?" There was that name again. I looked at Sollux, to see if he had been napping or something, but he was wide awake and watching me with confusion.

"What did you just call me?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"What, 'KK'?"

"Yeah, you called me that this morning too."

"Oh, its just quicker than saying 'Karkat'." I opened my mouth to ask him why he felt close enough to me to call me by nickname, but he cut me off with a hurried "Why do you have a knife?" I shrugged, knowing he wouldn't understand what I was doing. He was far too much a model citizen for that.

"It's just easier." He snapped into a glare, a ferocious one at that.

"You're planning on doing something illegal, aren't you?" I sighed, combing my fingers through my bangs.

"From a previously good citizen's perspective, yeah, probably." That didn't seem to make him feel better at all, as he put down the book to give me his full attention.

"Then it's something dangerous as well, right?" Wait, wait. He was _concerned_? Jesus, this kid got attached easily.

"Sollux, sometimes the Batterwitch needs to remember we're still here, and we're still a threat." Plus, it's difficult as fuck trying to get good fresh halibut in the river, and Crabdad never cooked with anything but the best.

"What are you going to do?" He probably hadn't reached the Batterwitch chapters, so he wouldn't know about the supply trucks, about the branding, or about the Purge.

I sighed again. Sollux wasn't going to let up without a full explanation, was he?

"Shit, I really don't want to be doing this right now." I muttered, swinging my satchel over my shoulder. "Sollux, I would love to explain every little detail about my life, but right now, I honestly have no time. Just know its important." He got to his feet defiantly.

"And dangerous." I grumbled exasperatedly.

" _Yes_ , it's dangerous! Saving your fucking ass was dangerous too! Being a Runner isn't exactly clouds and cupcakes, Sollux!" He didn't back down, even from my shouting. Damn, he must feel adamant about this.

"Why does the Batterwitch need to know that you're still alive? Aren't you hiding from her?"

"Jesus Christ, Sollux! I don't have _time_ right now. I need to do this, and it's important!" I took a deep breath, then, coming to a snap decision, grabbed an extra sweatshirt and threw it at him. "Put that on if you want to see for yourself."

 


	5. Back Story: In Preparation to Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes-  
> First: I make a reference to ID chips in this, located in the wrist. I probably won't explain too much within the story itself, so I'll just tell you now that to keep control of Derse's citizens, the Batterwitch orders everyone to be tagged with one of these ID chips. It's nothing really huge, and I probably won't do too much with it in the story.  
> Second: I make more references to KK's powers, and they're supposed to be as vague as I've written them. And by vague, I mean you glean almost nothing from it. The reason for this is we're learning things along with Sollux, so you guys'll know more when KK explains it to Sollux. It'll still be extremely vague throughout the story, because it's a main plot line, but I'll explain enough so it makes sense and isn't too confusing.  
> Third: I have given up on the past-tense shit. I cannot physically handle it anymore, so all chapters from here on out will be in present-tense. I hope none of that bothers any of you ^_^  
> Fourth: Sorry for the shortness.

I try not to go too fast for Sollux, as I have been climbing the bridge my entire life, but damn is he slow. I guess trees aren't common enough in Derse for Sollux to have any experience with climbing, so I try to keep that in mind, but by the time we've reached fifty feet of a two-hundred, I'm so annoyed, I join him on the metal support he's currently clinging to and fix him with a glare, which he notices and grimaces apologetically.

"S-Sorry I'm going so slow. I'm just n-not really used to," he gulps, glancing over the edge of the bridge, then squeezes his eyes shut. "used to heights." Oh, Jesus Christ. He's afraid of heights. Of all the people to be stuck with, I get the one afraid of heights.

Well, you did take him along in the first place. I slap my subconscious and let Sollux regain his composure.

Then I realize if we're going to make it up to the platform I had built around the fourth horizontal support in the next hour, Sollux is going to have to be going as fast as me, and that gives me an idea. I look Sollux over, and judge he'd certainly be light enough. 'Kid is like a fucking twig.

"Climb on." I tell him, turning and kneeling down.

"Wh-What?"

"You're taking fucking forever, and we'll go faster this way." He's silent for a moment, then complies with the offered piggyback, and Jesus Christ, does this boy ever eat? "Hold on tight." He's certainly stronger than he looks, because he manages to stay latched on without my help, and doesn't slip once with my quickly moving body as we climb. We definitely make faster progress, and I find it actually rather easy to move with him. At the fourth support, which marks one-hundred and eighty feet above the river, Sollux lets out a stifled gasp at what Crabdad and I has made ten years ago: spanning half the width of the bridge is a wooden platform, where there's a rolled up sleeping bag, a large lantern and a first-aid kit tucked under a tan tarp to blend in with the unpainted wood.

I hoist my body onto the platform with some difficulty, then let Sollux get his footing before letting go. He quickly turns to face me, pale and a little... worried?

"U-Um, thanks for the lift."

"Yeah, well you were fucking slow." I shrug, though I'm not nearly as irritated as I come across. I drop my bag to the flooring and kneel down to root through it for the rope, which, once I've yanked it out, I take over to the edge of the platform facing the desert. I quickly knot one end of the rope through the sturdy steel ring that's attached there then straighten and look out across the desert. There, in the blinding flare of the sunset, is the cloud of dust created by the supply truck I plan on intercepting.

"Is that a sandstorm?" I laugh at Sollux's inquiry as he joins me.

"A little thing like that?" I laugh again, ignoring a confused glance cast in my direction. "Nah, that's a truck carrying supplies to the center of the city." I turn back around to pick up my satchel and sling it back over my shoulder.

"You're... you're going to steal from it, aren't you?" I look up at him in surprise; he's a good head and shoulders taller than me, and apparently smarter than I gave him credit for. Does the fun ever stop?

He's watching me with a confused, but level gaze from his place near the edge. I meet said gaze, but am unsure how he's going to react.

"Yes, I'm going to steal from it. Unfortunately, that's kind of my job." He looks away, fists clenching.

"Wh... What about the other people who need things from it?" I huff, rubbing the back of my neck in annoyance.

"I'm not going to steal all of it, Soll." His eyes flicker back at his new nickname. "Just what Gamz, Crabdad and I need; which isn't much, actually."

"Are you, um... going to be fighting?" I shrug again, rejoining him and keeping my eyes locked on the approaching truck. We have maybe ten minutes before it gets here.

"If it's heavily guarded, yes. If not, I just use smoke as a cover to get what we need and go." I see him nod slowly out of my peripheral.

"You won't, you know, kill anyone, right?" Geeze, this kid is just full of surprises.

"Not if I can help it."

"And yesterday. You couldn't help that, right?"

"Just a bundle of questions, aren't we?" I grumble. "Yes, yesterday I couldn't help it. If the suits were allowed back, they'd know who I was and who rescued you. They would have killed us if we tried to run with them still alive."

"Oh. I see." He shuffles his feet for a second, and he looks like he wants to say something.

I snort. "Well, spit it out."

"Um, why can't you just buy stuff in a store?" This time when I laugh, it's harsh and short.

"What, with this branded on me?" I pull up my left sleeve and yank back the leather armband. There, settled just below my hand, is an elegant upper-case 'R', its leg twisting into a lowercase 'n' before blending into another 'R'. It's sickly pink compared to my rather tan skin, and I don't have to look at it to know what lies there; I remember the day it happened well enough to have the symbol burned into my memory as well as my flesh.

"W-What is-"

"Did you really think store clerks were checking for your ID chips when you paid? Nah, they were looking for Runners." He looks up at me in confusion. Jesus Christ, he'd hardly gotten anywhere in the book if he hasn't made it to the Purge yet.

"Looking for Runners?"

"Yup. Any Runner found before Christmas three years ago has been branded with this mark, this... proof of ownership." Whoops. Yeah, judging by his expression, he has no idea what I'm talking about.

I sigh. "Jesus fucking Christ, you have a lot to learn." He looks miffed at this, but it's not like I really care.

"No need to be snappy." He mutters, crossing his arms with a huff. Shit, he must have been spoiled rotten, 'cause the way he sticks out his lip is god-fucking adorable. Hmm, perhaps I can train him to use it on the Hunters? "Dude, why're you staring at me?"

I shake my head, kneeling down to recheck the rope. "'Not important right now." I straighten again, securing my satchel again and checking the nearing approachment of the truck. Five minutes at the most. "Okay, no matter what happens, you stay up here. I've already saved your ass once, and I don't want to do it again, got it?" He nods silently, a firm set to his lips telling me he's still annoyed with me. "That means even if they kill me, you don't move down from here until they've been gone for thirty minutes." He looks surprised by this, and opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "They'll probably torture the hell out of me first, but no matter what they do, do not move." He mutters something, but I ignore it. "And while all this is going down, stay low. They'll be looking for anyone who might be helping me, so don't let them see you." He nods jerkily.

"Fine, as long as you don't let them kill you." I snort. Remember what I said about him getting attached easily?

Actually, this might just be because I trespassed on his consciousness during his first migraine. Can empathetic connections last after the instigator leaves?

I shake my head again. The truck's too close to be thinking about this, and I need to be completely focused to pull this off. Sollux seems to know this too, because he backs off slightly as I pick up the rope in preparation to slide down it. I pause as Sollux puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Be careful, KK." I just nod, then jump as the semi reaches the bridge beneath us.

 


	6. Back Story: What it Takes To Steal

Sliding down the rope with one hand, the other holding his knife, Karkat lands on top of the truck with an involuntary thud, a curse leaving his lips softly as the truck swerved to a screeching halt stop. He’d hoped to avoid fighting, but that seems unlikely now.

If he had any hope of getting what he needs, he’d need to take it first, then deal with the soldiers.

Swearing again, he stabs his knife down, easily slicing through the metal of the truck in a wide arc. Once he’s done that, he stands, slamming down the heel of his foot on the slice mark, making a hole large enough to fit down. He quickly jumps inside as the truck comes to a complete stop, ignoring the sound of the soldier’s feet on the dusty asphalt , and begins searching through the boxes. Tarragon, bandages, burn cream, halibut, Faygo, notebooks and a knife sharpener go into his satchel, the boy grabbing a couple boxes of peppermints and some of the fish crackers Crabdad adores at the last second.

He straightens, looking up at the hole he’d made, quickly gauging the distance before crouching, then leaping off his toes, easily clearing the edge and landing with a foot on either side of the hole. Ignoring the soldiers for a second longer, his eyes find the rope, which is unfortunately about forty feet back, with one of the soldiers trying to reach it.

If he did, he’d find Sollux, which Karkat will not allow.

The boy breaks into a sprint across the top of the trailer, making sure his bag is secure at the same time, and hurtles off the truck, landing about twenty paces from the semi, pulling all of the soldiers’ attention to him, and away from the rope situated at the tail.

He feels Sollux’s panic above him, but blocks it and filters that part of his mind to only feel what the soldiers are feeling and thinking.

He slowly turns to face the twenty-or-so soldiers, snapping to a glare and savoring the surprise that he’s only a kid. Several start charging, bringing up their guns or knives respectively, and Karkat sighs, sliding into a ready crouch, closing his eyes for a moment to bring a memory to the front of his mind.

_“When they’re coming at you, your body is going to naturally panic. Even the most skilled warrior will falter when outnumbered and outgunned. If this happens, what do you do?” The small boy looked up at the much larger man, feeling a warm breeze play though his hair as they stood on the pebbly beach. “C’mon, kitkat. What do you do?”_

_“Bob and weave.”_

_“Exactly! Never make the first hit, especially if they charge first. Duck under their arms, dodge their weapons, anything you can do to get behind them. Then what?” The man grinned at Karkat._

_“Throw them off their balance or get their weapons from them.” Crabdad nodded._

_“Good. What do you do if you can’t get behind them.”_

_“If they have a gun, stay as close to them as you can so they can’t shoot you, and if they have a knife, stay out of arm’s-reach.”_

_“On guard.” Without any other warning, Crabdad charged at him, throwing his full weight at his small frame._

_Instead of feeling the promised panic, the boy was completely calm, and easily ducked under his arms, feet twisting lightly on the stones until he was behind the big man, leaping off his toes to land on Crabdad’s back. From there it was easy to use Crabdad’s forward momentum to push him to the ground, Karkat sitting silently triumphant on the laughing man’s shoulder blades._

The boy’s eyes fly open as he leaps forward, bending around the first and knocking him into the asphalt. He swings his leg all the way up kick another’s face to the ground, using his body as a springboard to slam the next two against the front of the truck.

All of their fear and panic is nauseating, but through it all, he picks up anger and spite from one of them, and whips around, barely managing to dodge the bullet flying in his direction. Not giving the soldier time to reload, Karkat dives at his legs, landing on his hands with his knees around the man’s shoulders before flipping his entire body over himself, the soldier’s head hitting the bridge with a crack.

Straightening, he realizes everyone except the drive had run, and he starts dragging the bodies off to the side of the bridge and out of the way of the truck. Once he has, he too stands to the side, nodding to the driver to continue. The petrified man takes several seconds to register that he’s letting him go, then steps on the gas so hard, the truck leaves tire tracks on its way back into the city.

“Karkat?!” His head snaps around to look up at the platform, where Sollux is half-hanging over the side in worry, so Karkat just smirks up at him.

“Aw, you were worried about lil’ ol’ me?”

 

“How... How did you do that?” Karkat shrugs, leading a half-stupefied Sollux across the bridge and towards the stone steps on the other side that would lead to Crabdaddy’s without having to wade through the water.

“It’s part of my powers.” He tells him, before adding a muttered “Or lack thereof,” under his breath.  The psionic doesn’t seem to hear, pondering his words silently.

“And... what _are_  your powers?” Sollux speeds up a step as Karkat starts down the stone steps to the beach.

“Eh, nothing special.” The redhead hedges, quickening his pace to avoid the question. Sollux catches onto the ploy immediately, frowning.

“Don’t pull that shit with me, KK. I think it’s only fair if you tell me.”

“Well, life _isn’t_  fair, is it now?” He retorts, hands stuffing themselves in his pockets in agitation.

The two of them quickly make it into the kitchen of Crabdaddy’s, greeted once again by a furiously working Crabdad, and a lounging Gamzee. The curly-haired boy looks up as soon as they walk in, eyes falling on Karkat and lazy grin abruptly turning into a frown. Karkat hates how well the other can read his face.

He sends Gamzee a look that says “Don’t ask”, and the clown nods obediently, returning to his lounging. Sollux notices the exchange, but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You get the halibut?” Crabdad asks from behind the big wok. Karkat nods, slinging the bag from his shoulder and opening it, taking out the fish, Faygo and Tarragon for use in the kitchen.

The boy is suddenly engulfed in a hug from behind, a painted nose pushed into his hair. “Aw, thanks for the Faygo, Karbro. That was mighty sweet of you.” Karkat smiles slightly, tipping his head back to look at him.

“Don’t mention it; you were almost out anyway.”

Sollux watches in silence, intrigued by their relationship. Gamzee notices and immediately releases him, tousling the redhead's hair before returning to his post. Karkat sends a quick glare at Sollux, then turns to Crabdad.

“I'll need to go into town tonight.” The man stills his working hands, looking down at his work silently. “The truck didn’t have any bullets or flour.”

“Are we out already?” Crabdad asks quietly, still not looking up and only increasing Sollux's confusion.

“Yes, and if the Egberts are going to go through with their plan, they need amo. They can't get it on their own, and you know that.”

“And you can't wait for the next truck?”

“Of course not. We don't know when that'll be, and there's no guarantee they'll have what we need.” He keeps a steady gaze on his adopted father, knowing his aversion to trying to steal directly from the Batterwitch was justified, but they _did_  need these things.

“I don’t like you going out there alone. Not after what happened to Aradia.”

“Gamzee can't come and Sollux isn't trained yet. I don't have a choice.” He finally looks up a little, meeting Karkat's gaze.

“You could die.”

“I could die doing anything I do.” Sollux opens his mouth to say something, but Crabdad cuts him off.

“I will not allow it, Karkat.”

“I can do it, Crabdad. They can't touch me, and you know it.”

“There’s always the possibility.”

“They. Can’t. Touch. Me.” He stands his ground, knowing Crabdad would eventually give in.

It takes an intense staring contest between the two before he does, the big man sighing, and relaxing his shoulders. He slowly returns to work, not looking at Karkat anymore, and not saying a word.

Karkat waits a few seconds longer to see if he’d start talking again, then turns and beckons Sollux to follow him into the back room. The confused brunette follows, biting back questions until they’re in the quiet of the room. “Um... What just happened there?”

Karkat looks up from unloading his pack onto his bed, gaze level and stern. “What do you think it was? I have to do something Crabdad doesn’t want me to do, that could possibly kill me.” There was really no way to say it nicely.

“What are you going to do?” The redhead straightens, and walks past SOllux to the bookshelf, moving some of the tomes aside to get at a little box, which holds a silver knife.

“I have to steal from the Batterwitch. Sometimes we can’t get stuff from the trucks, like you heard out there. Bullets used to be available from the trucks, but they’re becoming harder to find. Gamzee and I think they’re bringing stuff like that in with helicopters.” He tucks the knife into the back pocket of his jeans, putting the box and books back.

“And?”

“Well, we need those things, so if I can’t get them from the truck, I have to get them from the Reserves.” Sollux freezes, suddenly understanding.

“You’re going to steal from the _Reserves?_ That’s suicide!” On the inside of the palace walls, the Empress, whom Sollux now understands to be the Batterwitch, keeps huge storehouses of supplies, unaccessible by the common people. They’re ferociously guarded, even without the wall surrounding the palace, and anyone caught near them is killed on sight, no matter if they’re on the outside of the wall.

“No, it’s not. I’ve done it before.” He returns to his pack, repacking it with thicker rope, gloves and what looks like a climbing harness. “If I’m careful, they won’t even know I was there.” He stuffs these weird, soft-soled shoes in as well.

“Even _if_  you have, this is still dangerous!” Karkat groans, not sure he can handle any more of Sollux’s concern.

“Of course it is! My job isn’t exactly the safest. Now, I’ll be back later, so stay here.” He slings the bag over his shoulder again, walking out of the room. The kitchen is completely empty, meaning Crabdad’s retreated to his study, and Gamzee is doing fuck knows what. Karkat’s halfway to the door when Sollux catches up to him, face set in determination.

“I’m coming with  you.” Karkat opens his mouth to refuse, then sees Sollux’s eyes behind his glasses, and stops. Just, stops. There’s something alight in his heterochromatic irises, and Karkat can’t say anything to stop him from coming.


	7. Back Story: I Am NOT Short!

_Be Spitfire_

 

You slink along the wall, keeping your body low to the ground as  you hear Sollux’s a-bit-too-loud footsteps following you. You refrain from hissing, knowing it isn’t his fault he doesn’t know how to sneak around like you do; you’ve been learning this stuff from before you were six; you guess you have to give him some credit.

For all it’s glory, the private reserve is not as guarded as it should be. At least, not with real guards. And all the electronic and automatic security systems are fucking easy to bypass once you figure out their patterns and blind spots. The only big problem is the guard turrets set to shoot at anything moving without a registered ID, which is scans for. You do not have an ID, so you have to stay out of the turrets’ range, much like the search lights.

The only problem _there_  is keeping Sollux out of them, since he hasn’t memorized their placements like you have. You send a few quick commands to him, and are glad when he listens; albeit not very well. After a bit, you reach out and take his hand to lead him better, and it works much better from then on.

You two have to walk around pretty much the entire length of the wall to get to the secluded alcove you and Crabdad had made a while back by rubbing away at the stone with sandpaper. Once you get there, you kneel down and sling the bag from your shoulder, rooting through it. You slip out of your shoes, and into the skin-clinging ones that you’d brought, before taking out the harness.

“Stay down,” you whisper to Sollux as you start hooking yourself up to the harness, slipping the different array of straps over yourself. Sollux watches you with curious eyes as you attach the rope to the belt of the harness, your hands working quickly to secure it all. “Okay,” you turn back to Sollux, slinging your bag back on. “I can’t take you into the Reserve. In the slim chance I get caught, I don’t want them finding you as well. I’ll be back in exactly half an hour, and if I’m not, go back the way we came in. Follow our footprints, got it?” You nod to the dusty road, where their footprints are clearly visible. “Be careful, okay?” You put a hand on his shoulder and smile a little, before standing and taking two precise steps back, then start swinging a small grappling hook in a circular motion.

You can feel Sollux’s apprehensive eyes on you, and do your best to ignore them so you don’t have to try this twice. You launch the hook into the air, the metal hitting the stone wall with a muffled clang. It luckily stays fast when you yank on it.

You take three more calculated steps back, then break into sprint, launching yourself at the wall and hitting a small lever on your belt, which immediately kicks gears into movement to start coiling the rope back up at your hip. Your special shoes give you extra grip on the wall as you quite literally run up the wall, until you get a grip at the top and fling yourself over. You hear a muffled gasp as you launch over to the other side, flipping the gear at your hip again to let the rope retract again on the way down.

You land near-silently on the dusty ground inside the wall, bracing yourself before looking around you and making sure the searchlights aren’t in range still. A while back, something hit them, a meteor or something, and knocked several of them out of place, meaning sneaking in is rather easy now that they don’t aim at the wall where you landed.

You break into a sprint again, heading for a line of buildings bearing some resemblance to greenhouses, though you know better. They’re filled with crates upon crates of food and ammunition kept away from the common people.

You head straight for the one in the middle, sidling up to the door handle. You pull the hooked knife from your pocket, shimmying it into the screws under the handle and twisting roughly. You keep your back to the white-washed glass wall so no one sees you, making quick work of taking out the screws and pocketing them.

That done, you slip your hand through the hole the removed handle makes and unlatch it from the inside, pushing the door open and slipping over the threshold.

Heading through the towering stacks of boxes, you make the familiar path towards the ammunition crates at the very back, shoes making no noise on the clean chrome floor. You slide around a stack of crates and to a stop at the one you’d marked with a small line of white chalk, then freeze as your gaze connects with that of another.

 

Your body goes completely rigid, and you see his do the same, your hand yanking out your knife in a precise movement that’s only marred by the fact the figure before you pulls out a sword in the same amount of time. You chalk it up as your shock interfering with your speed, and immediately launch yourself over the crate and at the figure.

You almost make it too, but your blade barely grazes its arm before it spins away, though it knocks off its and shades in the process, revealing a severely freckled, but pale face, and wide red eyes staring right back at yours.

The two of you make a collective sound of fright and surprise, both freezing thankfully in the cover of the crate towers. He’s no older than you, you’re positive, but he can’t be much younger either. He’s taller than you, of course, but that doesn’t surprise you. What surprises you is his crimson irises, almost kin to yours in color, and how they stare at you inasmuch wonder and bewilderment as you do them.

You slowly start to process that he’s here for the same reasons you are, and that he’s... far too young to be doing just that. Better yet, you sense the distinct trace of a Runner’s powers on him.

He’s like you in more ways than you’d like to admit, and he seems to be processing the same thing, because he’s slowly lowering his blade. You do the same with your knife, but keep wary, though you’re seeming to have less and less need to be.

You two slowly relax, and you nod to the crate he’d been leaning over, as if asking permission to take some of its contents. He makes a little bow with a snarky smirk, and you quickly get what you need. You’ll need to get other food supplies, but the boy seems to be done, so you look at him once you’ve put the lid back on the crate.

The boy before you points to you, then to the door you’d come through, questioningly, and you nod a little, hoping he’s asking where he came in from. He then points to himself, then up to the ceiling, and you chance a glance upward, finding a rope slung down from there, a panel removed from the roof expertly.

You cock an eyebrow at him, then take a cautious step forward as you pull a pen from your pocket. He flinches at the movement, then lets you approach, even holding his arm out to you as you scribble a quick, short message on it.

 

_MEET ME AT CRABDADDY’S, BLONDIE. -VANTAS_

 

He reaches over for your arm in turn, scribbling a note on your skin with terrible punction that makes you smirk a little.

 

_fine by me shorty_

_ill see you in a bit_

By the time you’ve put the pen back in your pocket, the boy’s picked up his fallen attire and made a dash for the rope still hanging there, leaping lightly off his feet and latching onto it. You watch in mild surprise, quirking your eyebrow again as he mock-solutes you and quickly scales to the rafters, disappearing in a flash.

You’re left in the warehouse with the dull echo of the faint thud made by the roof panel sliding back into place.

You meet Sollux outside the wall again, easily packing up everything and starting to lead him the way back. You know he senses something’s up with you, so you’re thankful when he doesn’t say anything on the precarious way back, remaining silent as he follows in your wake. You don’t make any detours, heading straight for Crabdad’s; you’re eager to know if there’s a Runner that matches the boy you’d met’s description.

You can sense Sollux’s dejectedness as you go straight for Crabdad, who’s working in the kitchen again, but ignore the psionic for the time being, wanting answers.

“Crabdad, how many Runners are there about my age?” You see Sollux perk up out of the corner of your eye at this, but again ignore him, focusing on the surprised and confused look you get from Crabdad.

“Aside from you and John, and Sollux now, I don’t think there’s anyone. No one who’d be known by me, anyway.”

“So, you’re positive there’s not a blonde kid running around with powers?”

“I know of a blonde, but he's no where near your age... Dirk, I think his name is. He's worked with us a few times but he's mostly freelance.”

“Is he short enough to look my age?” Crabdad shakes his head.

“Of course not. Why do you ask?” You open your mouth to respond, but are quickly cut off by te opening of the empty restaurant door. You look over your shoulder and jump in surprise at the sight of said blonde kid.

You quickly calm your expression into  a scowl, snapping at him. “Don't just barge in here like you own the place, blondie.”

“Ooh, got a spitfire on my hands do I?” The blonde smirks, sticking his hands in his pockets as he strides over to the counter and leans on it. Crabdad gives you a cuff around the ear for yelling at a customer, before turning to the newcomer.

“Ignore him. What can I do for you?”

“I dunno, you tell me.” You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but you know they dart to you for a split second. “Spitfire's the one who told me to come.” Crabdad rounds on you at this, growling angrily.

“You gave someone the address?!”

“I did not! I just said come to Crabdaddy's! Besides, it's not like he's a spy or anything!”

“How do you know I'm not?” Blondie piped up, and you in turn treat him with a glare.

“Because I can sense it, obviously.” You ignore his disgruntled look to turn your attention back to Crabdad. Unfortunately, you're interrupted once again, this time by Sollux.

“Where did you meet him? _When_  did you meet him? You were with me the whole time.”

“I ran into shorty here at the reserves. You can imagine my surprise.” From there, you completely lose control of the situation.

“You what?”

“I am not short!”

“Karkat, why didn't you say anything?”

“Your name's Karkat? Can I call you Karkles? And don't deny it; you're short.”

“Karkat, you really should have said something.”

“You are pretty short, KK.”

“I AM NOT SHORT!”


	8. Back Story: How I Killed Them

You sit seething at the other side of the table, glaring at the blonde before you. He keeps the cocky smirk on his face as he looks back at you, elbows leaning on the table. You see Sollux and Gamzee standing off to the side by the kitchen, watching you two with worried curiosity.

"So." You jump a little at the other boy's sudden speaking, looking at him.

"What?"

"What's your muneris?" You blink.

"My what?"

"Your power." He leans back against the booth, cocking his head a little to the side.

"I don't even know your name, and you expect me to tell you something like that?"

"Dave Strider." He leans back forward, holding out his hand. You send a quick glance at Crabdad before taking his hand and shaking it, lips tugging into a firm line.

"As in Dirk Strider, Strider, right?"

"Yup. He's my older brother."

"I see..." Dave cocks his eyebrow.

"So?"

"I'm still not telling you my power."

"I meant your name!" he laughs, more of a giggle-snort. "And don't be so defensive; you really think a Batterwitch spy would be allowed in the Reserves?"

"Could be. Anything is possible, halfwit." OUt of the corner of your eye, you see SOllux start to walk over, the pionic growling a little under his breath. You try to wave him away, but he doesn't listen, sitting right next to you in the booth, and making you scoot over a little. Dave's eyebrow shoots up again at the display.

"You two a couple or something?"

"What?! Of course not!" Your cheeks turn a shade of pink you will never admit was there, resisting the urge to throw the salt shaker at Dave. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation here! What are your powers, and how did you figure out how to get into the Reserves?"

"Easy." Dave smirks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out two black and red pocket watches, setting them in the middle of the table. "These." You and Sollux sit up to get a better look, you reaching out a hand to pick one up; Dave snatches them back away before either of you can touch them, causing you to growl softly.

"Hey."

"Don't 'hey' me. I don't know shit about you either, much less your name, so fuck it if I'm actually going to let you touch these."

"Karkat," you bite angrily. "Karkat Vantas." Even behind his shades, you see Dave's eyes widen, his watches falling back to the table with a clatter. The sound is enough to make you drop your scowl, and for several customers to look around at you three.

Dave hastily picks them back up and shoves them into his pocket again, waiting for everyone else to turn away before speaking again, much quieter.

"You're Karkat Vantas?"

"Yeah..." You send Crabdad and Gamzee another look, starting to get more and more worried by this whole situation.

"How are you even still alive?!"

"I honest to God have no idea what you're talking about." Dave looks around for a moment, then gets to his feet, and grabs your hand, starting to tug you back towards the kitchen. You let out a squeak, and hear Sollux protest from behind you.

Dave stops just inside the kitchen, rounding on you. "Where can we speak that's more private?"

"Fuck if I'm gonna-"

"Karkat, go outside." You and Dave turn to look at Crabdad in surprise, and you realize Dave still has a firm grip on your wrist.

"What?"

"Gamzee will go outside with you, just go." He points to the door, looking upset. You don't know why, so just start pulling Dave towards the door to the pebbly beach, Gamzee following the two of you. Once outside, Gamzee leans against the now-closed door next to where Sollux now stands, cross his arms over his chest and looking at Dave expectantly. You turn your gaze to him as well.

"How do you know who I am?"

"Bro used to work for the police department."

"How does that explain anything?" Sollux demands as you tense up, tightening your hands into fists. Dave notices your reaction, and almost nods in satisfaction.

"I read over your file a while back."

"What was in it?"

"Everything."

"Is no one going to tell me what's going on?" the psionic complains, though shuts up when Gamzee puts a hand on his shoulder, leading Sollux back into the kitchen. You watch them for a moment, then look at Dave again.

"Everything was in there?" Dave nods, sticking his hands in his pockets with a solemn look.

"Do Clownface and Crabdaddy know about it?"

"But not Sollux."

"You plan on telling him...?" You wince a little, looking down at your feet.

"I... don't know. He's new; young. He's the most powerful psionic I've seen."

"He doesn't like his power." You shake your head.

"I'm worried that if I tell him about me, he'll ask me to... you know. I don't want him to know how I killed them." After a long moment of silence, Dave nods with a small sigh. "It'll only put him in more danger to know about me."

"I understand. You want me to keep quiet about it then, I take it?"

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind..." The blonde manages a small smile that isn't a smirk.

"I guess I can tell you my muneris then, since I already know yours."

"Before you do that, what the fuck is a muneris?" Dave chuckles a little, pushing his hands further into his pockets.

"It means gift. Bro and I use it instead of shit like power and stuff. We're a bit weird." He shrugs. "Anyway, my muneris is Time."

"Time?"

"Time."

"I meant elaborate."

"I can control time, to an extent." He pulls out his watches again, taking a step closer to you as he holds them out and opens them. They look pretty ordinary, aside from the numbers being strange symbols you've never seen before, and the gear imprints on the face. "This one," he holds out the one with a red gear. "controls time. I can wind it back or forward to the time and date I want, and I'll be the only one who notices. This one," he holds out te black gear one. "controls universes. And by that I mean alternate timelines."

"And what do you mean by alternate timelines?" He scratches the back of his head, stuffing his watches back away.

"Well, it's rather complicated, even for me. Basically... an alternate timeline is a offshoot universe that is changed by the choices someone made. Like... Hm, there's a universe for every combination of choices ever made. Like, a minor offshoot would be if you had toast instead of oatmeal for breakfast."

You cock your head a little, not sure if you actually want to ask if... "And a major offshoot would be...?"

"Like if your parents hadn't died. Or if the Batterwitch never came into power. Or even if she was a good empress." You nod, having had that suspicion, and look down at your feet.

"So... there's somewhere out there with people without... munerises?"

"Yes..." Dave says cautiously, giving you a funny look. "But you can't get there."

You glance up from your feet. "Why not?"

"Because only I can use the watches, and only for a little bit. I always have to come back, because this is my timeline."

"How can you tell?"

"It's where I come back to when my time runs out." You let out a small sigh, looking away from him again for a long minute.

"Right. I knew it was a stupid idea anyway."

"Hey." Dave puts a hand on your shoulder. "It'll all be fine. One day, we'll take down the Batterwitch." You sigh again.

"I'm counting on it."


	9. Back Story: A Pissed and Jealous Captor

BE THE PISSED OFF (AND SLIGHTLY JEALOUS) PSIONIC

 

“What’s your power?” You stand in the doorway to the bedroom, fists clenched at your sides as you glare at the wide-eyed Karkat before you, hurt and freaking out just a little.

Karkat stares back at you, one hand resting on the doorknob, opening and closing his mouth several times before managing to speak. “E-Excuse me?”

“I said what’s your power. Because it obviously means a lot more than what you’ve been letting on. Dave knows shit I don’t, and fuck if I don’t deserve to know it more than him. I let you take me in, practically kidnap me and let me stay with you, and you won’t even tell me if you’re going to, like, turn into a murderous rage beast on me.” Karkat remains silent for a long moment, then almost-giggles, shaking his head a little and trying to play off relaxed, but you can tell he’s still jittery as fuck.

“Calm down, Sollux.” He walks past you, heading for his bed and you let him, but follow him with your eyes. “I promise i’m not going to turn into a murderous rage beast.” He runs a hand through his hair, and you see it shake, biting your lip into a frown.

You walk over slowly, sitting on your cot across from him and continuing to frown, now looking to him in concern. He jumps a little as you sit, looking at you with a slight, “deer caught in the headlights” sort of look, his face pale.

“Are you alright, KK?”

“Peachy,” he mutters with none of his usual bite, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“Karkat.” He looks up again in surprise, and you return to your glare.

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.” In an instant, it’s almost if your rage-beast theory comes true.

Karkat leaps up, snarling something in a language you don’t understand, and you’re suddenly pushed back as if hit in the chest with a fireball, toppling off your cot and to the floor with a muffled cry.

You look up dizzily in time to see Karkat bolting from the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

 

BE THE HIGH MOTHERFUCKER LOOKING FOR HIS BRO

 

You almost-lazily walk up the step stone stairs to the top of the bluff, hands tucked into your pockets as you sigh softly, looking to the bridge as you walk, not even watching your feet. Though it’s not too far away the form sitting on the very edge still looks rather small, though that might just be the dying light.

You pause on the ground where dust meets metal at the edge of the bridge, watching Karkat swing his legs that he’s stuck through the gaps in the rail, his red head of hair leaning on the bar next to him, and hear him sigh. He doesn’t realize you’re there, meaning he must be really upset, or he’d have sensed you by now... You frown more in worry, and take a step to walk towards him, but stop once you see another figure approach him from the other side of the bridge.

They don’t seem to notice you anyway, so you duck behind one of the supports, peaking around the side to see who it is. You see a glint of the dying sun on plastic, and frown more; what’s Dave doing here?

You almost get to your feet again to protect Karkat, but then Dave just sits himself next to Karkat, and you realize your little bro’s not even surprised to see the blonde; this concerns you, and your first thought is what Sollux would think of this.

You remain silent and out of sight, however, creeping down a few more supports to get close enough to hear them.

“... set you off?” Dave is saying as soon as you’re in earshot.

“I don’t know,” you hear Karkat sigh, the boy staring out across the river, still swinging his feet. “Why do you care again?”

“‘Cause I’m the only one your age that knows what’s going on.” Dave shrugs, following Karkat’s gaze with his own.

“How could you possibly know what’s going on? You have complete control over your powers.”

“No I don’t, idiot. I’m fourteen; no one’s go control of their shit that young. And according to your file, you’ve got in pretty much down, dude.”

“Well, I don’t. Not over my dad’s side anyway.” Dave lifts a hand and pats his shoulder, leaving it there; intrigued by the way Karkat doesn’t even resist, you scoot a little closer, cocking your head curiously.

“But your mom’s side you do?”

“Usually. Unless someone I care about’s in danger...” Dave nods his understanding at that.

“Same here, but I still can’t control it if my hands slip a little while winding. I still screw up while in other timelines. I can accidentally send myself somewhere else while sleeping. Shit like that.”

“You can’t control it while sleeping?” Karkat perks up a little, looking over at the blonde. Dave shakes his head.

“Nope. I take it you can?”

“Yeah, except...”

“Except what?”

“Nothing.” Karkat looks back away, leaning his head back against the rail. You hear Dave sigh, shaking his head, but dropping it.

“What about your dad’s side? When can’t you control that?”

“When I’m super angry... I’m hardly ever that angry, but I... Well, some things just set me off. Sollux seems to know those things.”

“Ah, so it was four eyes who got you all bothered.” Karkat grumbles and lightly punches Dave’s shoulder, the Strider snickering and rubbing the spot.

“Don’t call him four eyes, and yeah. He was. I feel bad though, ‘cause I don’t like getting angry...”

“I can understand that. But, dude, don’t feel bad if you hurt him or anything; as you said: you can’t control that shit.”

“It’s still me hurting him though...”

“Dude, you can’t blame yourself for what you got from your dad.”

“But I’m the one who took it from him! So, it’s doubly my fault, Dave!”

“Jesus shit, Spitfire, calm your tits.” Dave pulls Karkat away from the bars a little to slap him, causing you to growl softly, but also for Karkat to snap out of it. He sits there, blinking at Dave in shock as he rubs his cheek. “Again, you can’t control that shit. Fuck if you had any semblance of control back then; no matter if it was you or not, you. Could. Not. Control. It. So don’t blame yourself.”

“H-How can I not?”

“You just don’t, nutterbutter.” Dave smiles and ruffles his hair. “And if you ever feel like it is again, call me; I’ll be here to give you another slap, got it?”

You find yourself smiling as you see Karkat’s lips perk up a little at the corners, before his full-blown grinning at Dave.

You get up then, dusting yourself off and heading back to the restaurant, still smiling lazily; you don’t think you’ll be mistrusting Dave anymore.

 

BE THE NOW VERY PISSED AND VERY JEALOUS PSIONIC

 

Dave comes back to the restaurant with Karkat after several hours, and you’re rather upset to see both of them laughing, and for Karkat to be wearing Dave’s hoodie. Who the fuck does that anymore.

You seethingly help set the table for you guys after Crabdaddy’s closes, slamming cuttlery and plates on the table without looking at what you’re doing watching the Strider rather shamelessly flirt with Karkat.

Okay, you can’t actually hear what they’re saying, but you know they’re flirting. You also don’t know why you’re pissed off about this, but still seeth at the sight of them goofing off at one of the empty tables as Karkat wipes them down. Dave just stands around and follows Karkat, grinning like he’s won the lottery. _Maybe he has, and you’ve lost your chance, dickwad,_  part of your brain tells you, and you angrily slam a napkin on the table (without much success of course).

You then proceed to try and ignore them, helping Gamzee bring the food over to the table. Halfway there, your hands go numb as your vision fades out, feeling something slam into your head from the side, causing you to drop the crock of mashed potatoes to the floor as you collapse next to it.

You have a few seconds of semi-consciousness before blacking out completely, seeing Karkat drop what he’s doing and rush over to you, and in a moment of half-hearted triumph, think “At least he’s not focused on Dave anymore.”

 

When you come to, you’re on your cot in the back room, with Gamzee looking down at you, his grin faded out into worry. “You alright, motherfucker?”

You manage a small groan, blinking your eyes a few times, then opening them fully again with a mumbled, “Yeah.”

“You seemed to have another episode, Solbro.” You heave out a sigh and slowly sit up, looking at Gamzee.

“‘Cause of my psionics?” He nods, then puts a finger to his lips and nods over to his own bed, where apparently Karkat is laying, Dave sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a washcloth on the ginger’s forehead. You suddenly feel guilty about your jealousy, but can’t stop it coming back either, looking back to Gamzee and dropping your voice to a whisper. “What happened?”

Gamzee just shakes his head, pushing you back down to a laying position. “Nothing you need concern yourself with. Just rest. Karbro’ll come around real fast; you’ll see.” You refuse to believe this, a small seed of worry settling in your stomach, along with the thought that whatever happened to Karkat is somehow your fault.

Gamzee gets up and leaves as Dave stands as well, the blonde looking over at you with a look of sympathy. He walks over to you and sits on Karkat’s bed, shaking his head with a sigh. “You alright?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yeah,” you answer grudgingly.

“I take it your headaches get pretty bad?” You shrug. “I met another psionic before, you know. Two, actually. They were pretty great dudes; Mituna and someone else. I only really remember Mituna, because Jesus was she a hot piece of shit.” Dave snorts and snickers at the same time, smiling a smile you kind of want to see again. “They both got headaches, Mituna worse than the other guy; I think he was her brother? I’m not sure.” He shrugs, smiling at you a bit. “Yours don’t seem as bad though, man. And once you get a little control over it, which I’m sure you will, it’ll become less and less of a problem, I promise.”

“How can you promise something like that?” He shrugs again.

“I just know. Anyway, I’m going to go get something to eat; I’ll bring you guys something to eat later, okay?” He gets back to his feet, dusting himself off and mock solution before heading for the door and leaving.

_Fuck. I can’t hate him._

 


	10. Back Story: (Almost) Skinny Dip

BE THE GUILTY (BUT STILL PISSED) CAPTOR

 

You watch Karkat from the other side of the breakfast table as he picks at his eggs and bacon, entire form hunched over in exhaustion. He eyes his food with sleep-glazed eyes, definitely not lucid as to what’s going on around him.

Gamzee and Crabdad act like nothing’s different, talking to each other across the table and taking advantage of their day off, the CLOSED sign flipped forward in the window of the restaurant. You wonder why they’re so... okay with Karkat looking like he’s going to keel over, while you keep your eyes on him, worried he’ll do just that.

The only good thing about this situation is the fact Dave left the night before after he’d been given dinner and taken some back to you and Karkat, as promised. You’re glad he’s gone, but you miss the euphoric air he brought with him that made Karkat smile like that, though you don’t like that Dave was the one who brought that out in him.

You shake yourself a little to stop thinking about Dave, looking back at Karkat, who’s nodding off over his plate a little. You frown, resisting the urge to reach over and shake his shoulder. After a long minute of debate and watching Karkat, you lean over and poke Gamzee. “Hey, Gamz.” Crabdad and him turn to look at you; you get nervous, but still say, “I think Karkat needs to go back to bed.”

Gamzee blinks and looks at Karkat, who’s peeked up from his dozing, and shakes his head. Gamzee sighs, and shakes his head as well. “Nope, motherfucker. Karbro’s fine, man.”

“Bullshit,” you say, grumbling. Before you can say anything else, however, Karkat gets to his feet abruptly, setting down his fork and sending you a small glare.

“I’m going for a walk. I might run into soldiers; who knows.” He shrugs, heading for the door. Gamzee quickly gets to his feet as well, hurrying over to him and grabbing his shoulder, whispering something in his ear. Karkat whisper-yells back, then shoves him off, leaving the restaurant and slamming the door.

You sit there in stunned silence, biting your lip and ignoring the glare you get from  Gamzee, get to you feet as well. “I-I, um...”

“Might as well go after him.” Your attention snaps to Crabdad, who’s just continued eating as if stuff like this is a normal occurrence. “He’ll probably do something stupid, and we can’t have that.” He wipes his mouth on a napkin and gets to his feet, starting to clear the table.

Taking a moment to comprehend what just happened, you quickly head out the door after Karkat.

 

BE THE PISSY TEEN FUCKING PISSED FOR NO FUCKING REASON

 

You kick the stones under your feet as you walk, each step leaving behind hints of the sand buried underneath, hands shoved as deep into your pockets as they can possibly go. You try to drown out the ferocious roaring in your head with the headphone strapped over your ears, yawning every few breaths.

Shit, you need to learn how to do help Sollux without completely draining yourself, but you’re... Fuck, you’re scared of hurting him. How could you not be? One slip up and you could lose the one kid your age who’s putting up with all this shit.

Well, you guess there’s Dave now, but he’s... He’s you don’t know. You don’t know what to think about Dave, and you honestly don’t want to think about pretty much anything right now, so you shove that away, pausing your walking to look out at the water to your left. You watch the waves lap at the pebbles, staining the light stones dark.

You’ve toed out of your shoes before you realize, and have already shuffled out of your hoodie. You shrug, and go with it, stripping down to your tanktop and boxers, slipping off your headphones and putting those on the neatly folded clothes on the bank. You already miss the music, but you step into the ripples, not even minding the cold as you steadily stride out until the water hits your waist, closing your eyes and just standing there, inhaling deeply.

With your senses currently on overdrive, you cringe at all the sounds and smells and feels of the world around you, now sincerely wishing you’d kept your headphones. In an effort to block it out, you suddenly plunge under the waves, fingers locking in your hair as you keep your head under the water. You let your feet lift off the bottom of the river, and allow your body to be moved by the current, as slow as it may be. You almost instant feel better, curling up in a tight ball to remain under the surface and letting yourself drift.

You try to lose all sense of the world and direction, focusing instead on the subtle ripples on your skin, on the silky feel of algae when your skin brushes the rocks beneath you, and on the tight feeling in your chest as you slowly run out of breath. You almost contemplate staying under, but then you kick up and break the surface, gasping for air.

You blink several times and shake your head to get your bangs out of your eyes, panting shallowly as you continue to refuse to let you stand on the bottom. The water’s slightly deeper here, easily reaching your neck in your half-sitting position, but you relish in this fact, closing your eyes again.

“Hey. Fishboy.” Your eyes shoot open at this, head whipping around to find the now-familiar head of blonde hair that belongs to one Dave Strider. He’s dressed differently though, in black skinny jeans and a black button up under an equally black jacket, the only color on him the bright red bandanna around his neck, tied muffler-style.

“I am not a fish,” you protest weakly, standing up and wading back to where the Strider’s standing by your clothes. “What the fuck are you doing here anyway?”

“What the fuck are you doing half-naked in a river?” Your cheeks go slightly pink, dressing quickly into your jeans and sweater. You’re about to pick up your headphones and iPod, but Dave stop’s you with his foot, making you look up at him questioningly.

“What are you-?” He just shakes his head, making a shhing noise before saying,

“Spar me.”  You blink.

“What you?”

“Spar me. Bro made me do it whenever I was upset. Which was a lot.”

“What does that have to do with me?” He sighs, making you stand straight before stripping you of your hoodie again. You again only protest weakly, severely confused as to what’s going on.

“You’re upset.” He sheds his jacket, dropping it by yours and taking a couple steps back. “So spar me without using any of your mother’s side.” You make another sound of confusion as he takes a ready defense stance. “Don’t think about it; just do it.”

“Dave, I don’t know if...” You look to him imploringly, and he just sighs again.

“I said don’t think about it.”

“How am I supposed to do th-” Without warning, he swings up his leg, and you barely manage to block it with your arm. You look from his foot to his face, but don’t have any time to say anything before he’s throwing his arm at you.

You squeak, jumping backwards and skidding to a stop several feet away from him. You realize he’s not going to let up unless you fight back, so you prepare yourself, sliding into a ready position yourself.

_“When an unarmed assailant is coming at you, and for some reason, you can’t use your gift, what do you do?” You’d looked at Crabdad in the utmost of confusion._

_“Why wouldn’t I be able to use my powers?”_

_“Let’s just say you run into someone else like you.”_

_“But you said there’s no one else like me.” He sighed, kneeling down and putting a hand on your shoulder._

_“Use your imagination, Karkat. Use your imagination, and come at me with all you’ve got.”_

You take a deep breath and open your eyes again, blinking in surprise to find Dave held against one of the old pier supports, your hand at the scruff of his shirt. His wide red eyes look back at yours in surprise, his shades thrown who knows the fuck where.

You immediately drop him back to his feet, taking a step back. You mumble an apology, looking away guiltily. “Sorry...”

“No, shit, man, that was awesome!” Dave’s lips crack into a grin, dusting himself off and righting his shirt. “How did you do that?” You look down at your feet, scratching the back of your head.

“Um, actually, I have no idea...”

“I know you didn’t use your mother’s side.”

“Yeah, whenever that happens, I tend to... I dunno, blackout. Crabdad doesn’t know why.”

“Oh.” His grin slips into a frown. “Is that... safe for you?” You shrug a little.

“It hasn’t affected me before. ‘Not like it’s going to start now.” Dave sighs, shaking his head and starting to walk back towards your guy’s jackets. You hesitate a moment before following, marveling how far down the beach the two of you had gotten; you really wish you could remember what happens while you’re like that.

You bed down and put your hoodie back on, still not feeling the cold temperatures that have turned Dave’s nose and ears red, and stuff you iPod in your pocket. You turn to Dave to invite him back to the restaurant, but as you do so, Dave flops down onto his butt on the rocks, before laying out flat with a huff of breath.

You blink, cocking your head. “What are you doing?”

“Resting. Care to join?” You stand there for a moment, then snort and lay out next to him, looking up at the slowly-lightening sky. You tuck your arms behind your head, closing your eyes and letting out a tired breath. You hear Dave shifting on the rocks next to you, but you don’t bother to look, even when you feel him card his fingers into your hair.

You just kind of shrug it off and let him, letting yourself relax, and your body to calm down. You can’t stay awake for very long once he starts playing with your hair, slipping easily into a light doze, as if you seriously has not a single care in the world.


	11. Back Story: Yeah, Just In Case

BE THE POUTING PSIONIC

 

Having walked out onto the beach to look for Karkat, and after over an hour of searching, do find him sparring with douchebag Strider, you’d retreated back into Crabdaddy’s, heading to your cot and flopping down on it.

You bury your face in  your pillow, growling; how are you supposed to make up with karkat if Dave’s always getting in the fucking way? They’d met two days ago, and already seem inseparable. How are you supposed to compete with someone who knows more about Karkat than you do?

You feel a weird sparking behind your eyes, but ignore it, grinding your teeth as you seethe into the pillow. You know you shouldn’t be this upset, especially over something like this, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much what you should and shouldn’t be doing. You’re already a fugitive; how much worse could you do?

You laugh bitterly, rolling over onto your back and rubbing your eyes. You then just look up at the ceiling, glad the blinds are closed against the morning sunlight flitting through the window, relishing in the darkened shadows of the room. Back home, the rooms were always bright; the people of Derse have always had a chronic fear of the dark, so lights are always on.

Here, that doesn’t seem to be a fear; rather a preference even... It’s different for you, but strangely calming. The sparking eventually fades back, and you relax with it, letting your muscles untense.

You lay like that for several hours, or what you think is several hours, until the door to the room opens. You sit up, expecting Gamzee or Crabdad, but it’s Dave, carrying Karkat in bridal style. You’re at first angry, but then confused as Dave brings him straight over to you.

“Lay back down, idiot,” he hisses, waiting for you to do so before laying Karkat next to you and letting the other boy curl up.

“What are you doing?”  you hiss back, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“Karkat’s cold,” he says simply, glaring at you. “He took a swim, and he likes you, so why not?”

“What do you mean he likes me, asshole?” Dave rolls his eyes, turning back towards the door.

“Just fucking cuddle the kid. He’ll feel better.” You fall silent, but watch him leave with a confused glare.

Once he’s gone though, you look back at Karkat, reaching up and patting his head, finding his hair slightly damp, as if he really had taken a swim. You sigh, and hug him closer, holding him against your chest and pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You watch the wall across from you until you drift off again.

 

You only start to wake when you feel Karkat shifting in your arms, his sharp nose digging into your throat. You refrain from groaning, instead just opening your eyes and looking down at him, finding with surprise that his eyes are open, and his cheeks are flaming red. You quirk an eyebrow before whispering,

“You alright?” Karkat makes a high-pitched squeak, almost toppling off the cot and to the floor, and he would have, had you not caught him with a snicker. “Idiot.”

“H-Hey, don’t scare me like that!” he protests weakly, and you just smirk at him, hugging him tighter for a moment, then releasing him.

He immediately gets up, brushing himself off disgruntledly, but you see him chance a glance at you over his shoulder. You smile a little, more of a smirk, and his turns back away, heading towards his trunk and rooting through it for fresh clothes. Once he’s got some, he mumbles something about a shower and disappears into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You let out a small sigh, rolling over and laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You listen to Karkat turn on the shower as you tuck your arms behind your head, sighing again as you think.

Dave cheered him up, once again. Because you pissed him off. Again.

You see a pattern here you’re not very fond of, grumbling to yourself to try and think of ways to apologize, and to tell Dave to back off without getting on both their bad sides. You sit up and punch your pillow into a more comfortable shape, before flopping back down and crossing your arms over your chest with a huff, sulking.

“This is bullshit,” you mutter to yourself, glaring at the single light in the middle of the ceiling. You’ve got nothing to do but brood about how you’re pissing off the only friend you’ve got in the world, and to think about why Karkat trust Dave so much more than you. “It’s probably because of his hair,” you muse to yourself, then shake your head with a sigh. That’s stupid; besides, you have _great_  hair.

You ignore your ego and sit up, though continue grumbling to yourself as you leave the back room, finding Crabdad baking a strange aray of pastries you don't know the name of, Gamzee sitting at the cash register despite the day off. As soon as you come out, Gamzee tips his head back to grin at you upside down, winking.

You feel your cheeks heat up at this, but ignore him, going over to sit on the stool next to him instead. To four disgruntled dismay, you find said stool occupied by one asshole blonde. Your frown deepens a little, instead going over to Crabdad.

“Do you need any help?” The man looks up in surprise, then straightens with a shrug.

“You can go over and start putting the dough on the cookie sheets.” He points to a stack of baking pans that look far too big to be normal cookie sheets, and to a humongous bowl of dough. “A spoonful every two inches.”

You nod, quickly washing your hands before following his instructions, ignoring the smirk tossed in your direction from Dave.

You work with Crabdad in the kitchen for a little over an hour before Karkat exits the back room, wordlessly joining the two of you, though avoids your eye. You hear a snort from Dave’s direction, but ignore it, instead watching Karkat from under your eyelashes, helping Crabdad effortlessly. Okay, now that you _really_  think about it, he’s extremely cute, so you can’t really blame the looks Dave is sending him.

You force yourself to keep in mind the unlikelihood Karkat even swings that way, and that you’re both thirteen. You don’t know how old Dave is, but you tend to want to ignore him, so you do so, instead going back to watching Karkat. You realize he probably helps out in the kitchen a lot, and that this Runner’s life isn’t... all that fast. There’s a lot of downtime; you’re not constantly doing something.

Karkat doesn’t need to steal everyday, and you can only torment the BatterWitch so many days in a row; you realize that you suddenly don’t know what to do with yourself. You don’t even have school to distract you anymore; what are you going to do with your life?

Your hands pause in their glazing of cinnamon rolls, frowning down at the platter before you. What... could you possibly do without schooling, without something to occupy your time?

“Hey.” You feel a tap on your shoulder, and look up, finding Dave standing next to you in surprise. “Can I talk to you?” You glance at Karkat, hesitating before nodding.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Crabdad and Karkat, before setting down your glazing brush, and following Dave out to the front. You feel Karkat’s eyes on your back until the door closes behind you.

“So.” Dave sticks his hands in his pockets, cocking his head slightly as he looks at you. “About your family.” You blink.

“What?”

“You miss them, right?”

“Of course.”

“You’ve thought about going back?”

“Of course,” you say again, frowning.

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because they won’t remember me. Kk said that the Batterwitch would wipe their memories of me...”

“False.” You blink in surprise again. “Well, okay, not really, but there’s a chance. You have little sisters, right?”

“Yeah...” Eyeing him warily, you frown more, shifting your feet on the pebbles beneath you.

“There’s a higher chance of them remembering you since they’re so young. And if they can convince the rest of your family that you’re theirs, they can remember.”

“But that’s...” You don’t know; this sounds wrong. Karkat said there was no chance...

“It’ll be difficult, sure, and dangerous, but if you ever wanted to see them again, I’d be glad to help.” He shrugs, thumbs drumming his hips as his fingers rest in his pockets.

“Why would you even offer?”

“Because I’m a Runner, I had a family, and I couldn’t get them back.” You think you can almost see his eyes through his shades, but then he turns his head, and the glare from the sun blots it out. “Karkat doesn’t have a family he could try and reconnect with, so he probably doesn’t know this is possible. He’d be against it anyway; he doesn’t want anyone in any more danger than they already are, which I agree with, but I thought I’d pose the question in case... Yeah, just in case.” He nods self-satisfaction, turning towards the steps to the top of the beach, starting to walk away, and you just realize he has his backpack.

“H-Hey, wait!” You take a small step forward, your words, being enough to stop him and turn him back to you. “If... If I ever wanted that, how could I contact you?” He shrugs a little, tipping his head to the side and giving a lopsided smile.

“Just as Gamzee. He’ll get me.”

You blink, but let him leave, watching his retreating form until it disappears over the crest.

 

BE THE SIGHING REDHEAD

 

You heave out a deep sigh as Sollux leaves with Dave, setting down your spoon and moving to sit on the stool next to Gamzee. You cross your arms on the wood counter, putting your head in your arms to better concentrate on reading the emotions of the people just outside the restaurant.

Surprise. Confusion. Fright...? Relief. Then doubt.

Dave’s told him something, something you don’t know the nature of, and you start to panic a little. Sollux is new, some could say too new, and you still don’t know too much about Dave... You don’t want Sollux getting hurt, or anyone around him.

You’ve already seen him torn about leaving his family... You don’t want him ever feeling something like that again, though you know that’s a lost cause, honestly. You’re Runners. Being torn is the worst that could happen.

You feel Gamzee start rubbing your back in large circles, and immediately relax, feeling tiny pricks of comfort at the edge of your mind, the closest Gamzee’ll ever be to reading you like he can others. Sometimes, most of the time, it’s a relief, but now you’re just a muddle of confusion and helplessness.  

You look up as Sollux comes back inside, the psionic’s eyes on his feet, before he glances up at you, your lips tugging into a frown. He looks hurt, betrayed.

You immediately wonder what you’ve done.

 


	12. Back Story: Sparks

BE THE LAZY KITCHEN HAND

 

“Like an old married couple,” you remark languidly to Crabdad, who flits around the kitchen behind you, glancing at the door to the back, out of which you two can hear the muted arguing of your ‘lil Bro and Sollux.

“Hm... You should probably go calm Karkat down before he says something stupid. He’s strung out enough as he is.” You shrug, not moving from your seat.

“The motherfuckers gotta work it out themselves. Sollux’s all up and feeling betrayed, and I’m sure Karbro’s confused as hell.”

“True, but the last thing we need is for Solkux to leave; he’s far too vulnerable without Karkat.” Crabdad pauses his work, straightening and wiping his hands on a towel. “On that subject, actually, have you heard from Mituna?”

“Nah, she hasn’t left any messages recently.”

“Do you think she’s alright?” You shrug, leaning back on two legs of your stool.

“She can handle herself, I’m sure. I sent out a call to anyone who knows where she is this morning, so we just gotta be patient.”

“Karkat can’t keep up with this if Sollux gets headaches as often as he has been recently.” Your neutral expression slips into a frown accentuated by your facepaint.

“I know what you mean. His mind’s getting easier to tap into.” Crabdad sends you a mild look of alarm.

“That’s not good.” You shake your head.

“He’s still tough as fuck, though, and it’s easier for me because I know him, but it’s... still concerning. Especially if Meenah comes back.” Crabdad leans heavily on the counter, running a gruff hand over his face.

“When is she due back?”

“A couple years, but you never know with the Empress. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s due back tomorrow.”

“Then we definitely need Mituna here for Sollux so Karkat’s not assailable.”

“I can protect his mind.” You turn your head to look at your guardian, neutral expression back in place.

“Not all the time, and definitely not full time against Meenah. No one’s got that kind of power.”

“‘Cept Karbro.”

“Except ‘Karbro’ at full power, which he’s not when helping Sollux like this.” You let out a sigh, spinning around on your stool for a few minutes.

“Like I said: we can only be patient.”

 

Dinner is a horrible affair, your lil’ bro glaring daggers at Solbro, who glares right back. You don’t know the exact nature of the argument, with only Sollux’s side to go off of, but you can guess, and can only blame Dave.

You know he didn’t mean to cause the strife, though, so you don’t hold it against him. Instead you sit in silence with the others at the table, letting the two silently argue to their heart’s content.

Halfway through dessert, you get a shock down your spine and sit up straight, dropping your fork back to the table. Karkat looks up in surprise, dropping his glare for a look of concern. “Gamz?”

You ignore him and close your eyes, tapping your foot rapidly as you get sparked again, then several times in a pattern. Ah, so Mituna is alive; that’s a huge relief.

You sense Karkat relax after he figures out what’s going on, turning back to his plate of food. Sollux’s mind races with thoughts you don’t feel like deciphering, so just focus on the sparks, memorizing the patterns they come in.

When they finally stop, and you open your eyes, Solbro is all but having a panic attack in his seat, Karbro and Crabdad eating as if nothing was wrong. You send a lazy smile to Sollux to comfort him, before looking at Crabdad, who’s set down his fork and folded his hands to watch you.

“Mituna can get here within the week. She was working a job over in Prospit for a while, but she can be back if we need her.”

“Well, we do.”

“Then she’ll be here in a couple days.” Karkat sits up a little, looking at you two in muted confusion.

“Why do we need Mituna? Did something happen?” You send a meaningful look in Sollux’s direction, Karkat catching the look. He still looks confused for a minute, then it slowly makes sense, and he slumps in his seat, poking at his remaining food.

“Right. Sorry.” You pat his shoulder a little, frowning.

“There’s no reason to be sorry, bro. It’s not your fault.” He just shrugs you off, and you don’t get the chance to say anything else before Sollux pipes up.

“Hey, um, anybody going to tell me what the fuck just happened?” Karkat glances quickly at Crabdad before answering.

“Uh, Mituna’s one of the other Psionics we know about. She has really good control over her powers, so we’re bringing her out to help you... do the same.”

“Then what just happened with Gamzee?” Sollux looks at you, frowning in what looks like concern, but is backed up to be more fright than anything, if his mind has anything to say about it.

You tap your temple. “Mind powers, brother. Mituna and I have a little message-thing we can do, when we’re too far away to send written messages.” This answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him, but he drops it, grumbling and starting to eat.

 

“Hey. Gamzee.” You roll your head to the side to look at Karkat, who’s laying on the bed next to yours, pillow under his chin as he lays on his stomach.

“Yeah, bro?” You keep the whispering tone he’s using, Crabdad and Sollux sleeping soundly on either side of the two of you. “Something wrong?”

He’s still for a good few moments before shaking his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. Just... Um, I’m fine. Really. There’s no reason to be... concerned about me helping Sollux.” You blink in surprise, then let out a long sigh, looking back up at the ceiling.

“It’s not just that, lil’ bro. You bein’ a little tired isn’t too much to deal with, and your powers can run a little low without it bein’ dangerous, but your mind...” You hear him shift on the bed, sighing himself.

“I can handle that. There’s no one in Derse other than you that can even do-”

“Karbro, Meenah could be back at any time.” You see him tense up out of the corner of your eye, and look over at him again. “I can protect you... some of the time, but not if she comes after you specifically. I don’t have that kind of power.”

“I know you don’t... And that’d only put you in danger. I don’t want that.” You snort harshly.

“I’m in danger everyday, bro. You know that. We all are. But I’d rather have the extra assurance that you’ll be safer, than rely on luck.”

“You know, I hate it when you talk all smart-like. It’s freaky as fuck.” He rolls over onto his side and curls up, back to you. “Get to sleep, Gamzee. You’re on morning shift.”

Karkat should know he’s not fooling anyone, and, sure enough, barely an hour later, you hear the boy get up and shuffle around the room for a while before leaving out the window. You mark a little piece of paper above your headboard, marking the days he hasn’t slept, before rolling over and trying to get some sleep yourself.

 

You rouse at the sound of Karkat coming back through the window, the early-morning sunlight flitting across the room. You blink blearily for a few moments, then just sigh and watch him as he gets dressed, eyes mapping the scars over his shoulders and back. You shake your head, turning over onto your back so you don’t have to look at them any more, sticking a hand behind your head.

You know he knows you’re awake; his powers aren’t so weak as allow his senses to be that dulled. You also know he knows you know about his late night to morning self-pity fests. Even without being able to see into his mind, you know he knows; he just ignores this fact to try and keep up the facade that everythings alright.

You shake your head to chase away your confusing thoughts and sit up, rubbing a hand over your paintless-face. You don’t like the feel, so quickly get to your feet and pad to the bathroom, showering before reapplying your paints expertly.

You only leave the bathroom when you’ve completed that, setting out a towel and some new clothes for Sollux when he wakes up, then head out to the kitchen, where Karkat’s already helping Crabdad serve the first customers. You slide into your place at the cash register, leaning back to watch the people entering and exiting the restaurant, paying attention to every thought in the room. You’re lucky your powers aren’t high-energy, or you’d never be able to keep this up all day.

Said day passes pretty uneventfully, until everything starts winding down around eight in the evening, Sollux having come out several hours earlier to help out as best he can. Everything seems fine, until Karkat, who’s been bussing tables for the past hour or so, perks up straight, looking at the door even before it opens. You frown as you pick of muddled brain waves, sitting up a little as the restaurant is greeted with the sight of a soaked to the bone, tired-looking Dave walking over the threshhold and drawing the eyes of the few remaining customers.

Karkat immediately stops working, setting his bin of dirty dishes next to the sink before hurrying over to Dave, ushering him out of the dining room and to the back. You sit up more as Sollux follows them, wondering if you should as well.

Crabdad catches your eye, and you nod, turning back to face the front of the store, keeping your mind open; anyone working for the Batterwitch could come in at any time, and you have a feeling the likelihood of that happening is higher than ever.

 

BE THE SLIGHTLY PANICKING VANTAS

 

Okay, you’re a little more than slightly panicking, but you put on a calm facade as you sit Dave down on your bed and fetch a whole bunch of towels, starting to dry off the numb boy you’ve got sitting before you. You refrain from questioning him for the time being, rooting through your chest for something that’ll fit him, thanking your lucky stars he’s smaller than Sollux.

You bring the clothes back, frowning at the sight of the blonde just staring at his feet with a blank look. You mean, he’s always kind of poker facing, but this is void of absolutely anything, and you can’t get a good read on his emotions.

You bite your lip and start tugging off his soaked clothes, gently, but still a little roughly, hoping that’ll jerk him out of the stupor he seems to be in. It doesn’t seem to work until you’ve got him out of his hoodie and his shirt, down to his tanktop. He suddenly jolts and looks up at you, eyes wide behind his shades as his hands fly up to stop yours.

“What?” you question, frowning. “You’ll freeze if you say like this.”

“U-Uh, Kk.” You look up, finding without much surprise that Sollux is standing by the door. But, he’s just staring at Dave as if he’s never seen him before. You frown more and look back at the blonde, trying to figure out what’s so bad, and immediately feel your cheeks go pink.

Dave’s own cheeks are crimson with embarrassment, and you have to shake yourself to stop staring, taking a minute step back. Dave is... Holy fuck, Dave’s a-

“You... have tits.” Wow, smooth.

 


	13. Back Story: He- No, SHE'S A Girl

 

BE THE VIOLENTLY FREAKING OUT MYSTERIOUSLY POWERED RUNNER

 

“U-Uh, yeah.” Dave looks down at his-, no, _her_  feet, running a hand through her dripping blonde hair.

“You. Have. Tits.” You earn yourself a rather heated glare, Dave’s eyes unhidden thanks to the shades you’d slipped off him-, shit, no, her when you took off her-

The weight of the situation slowly settles on you, and you jump a little, squeaking. Dave snatches hi- her shirt back and slips it on, apparently successfully broken out of her trance.

“You done staring yet, spitfire?” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest and continuing to glare at you as you just kind of stand there, not sure what to do or say. This awkward silence stretches on until Sollux starts walking over to the two of you, his own cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“Uh... KK. Give Dave the clothes so he can change.” He grabs your arm and starts leading you towards the door to the kitchen. “We’ll talk to you in a bit.” He nods to Dave before sharply closing the door behind you.

Several customers look up as he does so, but quickly avert their gazes politely when Sollux glares at them. The psionic then turns to you, and shakes you a little. “KK, snap out of it. Seriously.”

“B-But he’s-”

“She’s.”

“ _She’s_  a girl! Please tell me you didn’t see that one coming!” You blink in utter surprise as Sollux gives a snort, an almost chuckle.

“Of course I didn’t, you asshole. But you can calm the fuck down a bit, can’t you?”

“No. I cannot. I fucking sparred with him- her, and I didn’t even fucking realize!” Sollux rolls his eyes and paps your cheek, trying to calm you down.

“Dude, calm your tits. Dave’ll explain this whole tits-thing when she gets changed, and you can move on to accepting this.”

“When the fuck did you get so calm,” you snap, feeling a little patronized. Wouldn’t it be normal for you to be a little more than surprised by all of this?

“When Karkat Vantas decided to flip his shit, that’s when.”

“I'm not flipping my shit.”

“Yes, you are. Karkat, you're shaking like a leaf in a gale. You're blubbering like a chicken with its head cut off.” You open your mouth, then grumble, and close it again. You know he's right; you don't have to like it, but you know he's right, so you try to  take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

You barely have the chance to do that before Dave exits the back room, making both you and Sollux jump. If anything, Dave looks more upset than you do, eyes on her feet as her jaw clenches a little. You step out of the way to give her a little more room as she shoves her hands into her pockets and avoids eye contact with either of you.

“So, uh... I guess I owe you two an explanation, huh?”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Sollux elbows you before you can make more of an ass of yourself, though you grumble again and wait for Dave to continue. It takes her a while, but then she finally speaks up.

“So, well, obviously I'm a girl.” Sollux elbows you again when you open your mouth. “And I didn't tell you guys, because... Well, you assumed I was a guy anyway. It doesn't much matter to me what you think of me in that respect, so... Think of me how you will.”

“Why did you make it so hard for anyone to suspect you weren't a guy?” She shrugs, scuffing her foot on the floor.

“Like I said: it's never much mattered to me. 'Makes no difference, I guess.”

“How can it not make any difference?”

“Does it matter what gender I am? Will it affect our relationship at all?” She shrugs once again. “The answer to that is no, it will not.” You realize that, no, your relationship with the blonde will not change in the slightest. You barely had a friendship to start with; why are you so worried about all of this?

You let out a little sigh, looking to your feet as Dave catches your eyes defiantly, scuffing your feet on the crusty floor. You guess Dave doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, and you feel her emotions shifting around quite a bit, so you assume that’s the case...

“Why were you all wet?” you change the subject quietly, picking up Dave’s tiny breath of relief.

“Uh, I was running. Obviously.”

“From what?” You look back up, frowning. The blonde shuffles her feet, pushing her hands deeper into her pockets and looking away.

“Um... Well, lets say I crossed some people I shouldn’t have.”

“The Batterwitch?” She shakes her head.

“The Hunters.” Sollux still looks a little confused, not having finished the book, you assume, but you feel your stomach sink a little.

“How many? When? Where? Why?” She kicks her heel against the wood.

“Bro and I were trying to complete a swindle on them for some information, and we got it, but then one of them found out. Bro... doesn’t like to get out much, so I had been the one handling the deal, and so they knew what I looked like. They caught me while pulling another job near downtown, and I had to get out. I’ve been hiding under the bridge for the past three hours.” You blink, then growl softly, earning you a confused look from Sollux.

You ignore it and step up to Dave, putting a hand under her chin to make sure her pulse is normal, relieved to find it so, as well as her temperature just a little cold.

“Who did you piss off?” you inquire, shooting a pointed glance at Sollux before leading them both back into the room, shuffling through the closet for a thick wool blanket and bringing it back to Dave.

“I don’t know, exactly, but they’ve been employed by the Batterwitch quite a bit, so they had a lot of information that could be useful to Runners.” You wrap the blanket around her shoulders and sit her on Sollux’s cot.

“Such as?” She shrugs a little, eyes on Sollux as he sits on your bed across from her.

“Lay outs of hideouts, and the North side of the Reserve, among other things.” You quirk an eyebrow at her, the blonde in turn looking affronted. “What, I can’t tell you guys all my secrets.” Settling down next to Sollux, you just huff and let it slide.

“I’m assuming this all happened earlier today?” She nods.

“I pulled the job this morning. I almost completed it without them realizing, but they’ve hired a new Hunter, and he’s... a bit brighter than most. Jack or something.” Her face turns dark, grumbling to herself. “Fucking dick ruined everything. I luckily still have the information I was after, and hopefully they think I’m dead, but that’s rather unlikely.”

“Do you remember anyone else’s names?” Sollux speaks up a little, looking as if he’s working something out in his mind.

“No, not in my line of business. Names are dangerous.” The psionic nods, seeming to accept this.

“Then what’s the information you were after?” You cock your head as Dave’s cheeks turn a rosy pink.

“Uh... Putting a few things aside, it was mostly to plant a false tape in place of the real one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I got caught on camera at the Reserves. It’d been sent to the Hunters to ID who it was, so I went in and replaced it with footage of Vriska.”

“Wouldn’t someone have already seen it?” She shrugs.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. They have no proof it was me anymore.”

“But they knew you changed the tape; they came after you.” Cheeks turning pink again, she purses her lips.

“They just think I took some files.” You frown at her, Sollux looking like he’s thinking really hard again out of the corner of your eye.

“Were they really important?”

“In a way... Probably only to me, but they’re upset I got the better hand, so it doesn’t really matter.” You decide to let it drop, though you know there’s something important in that that she isn’t telling you, aside from the contents of the file.

“Fine, whatever. Do they know where you live?” She shakes her head.

“Of course not. Bro would kill me himself if I ever revealed that to anyone.”

“Hang on,” Sollux interrupts, sitting up with a confused look. “Why is your name Dave if you’re a girl?”

“What does my name matter?” she scoffs, crossing her arms again. “David’s my middle name, and I hate my first, so I just go by Dave.”

“What’s your real name then?” Her expression turns sour, grumbling out a grating,

“Elizabeth.” You hear Sollux try to conceal a snort in a cough, and hide a small laugh of your own. “It’s not funny!”

“It’s pretty funny,” Sollux laughs outright.

“If you ever call me that, I will murder you at birth.” That shuts Sollux up, though he just looks confused.

“And how would you manage that?” You glance between them, remembering Sollux hadn’t been there when Dave explained her powers.

“That’s beside the point,” you say, clapping a hand over the psionic’s mouth to shut him up as you lean forward a little towards Dave.

“Then what is the point?” She quirks an eyebrow.

“The point is-”

“KARKAT!” You jump about a foot in the air before scrambling up at Gamzee’s shout. Sollux shoots you a panicked look as you quickly grab your curved knife from on top of your trunk.

“Get out through the window,” you order, jerking your heads towards said window, before heading for the door. You check back over your shoulder to make sure your companions have followed your instructions, then ease open the door and peek out. Crabdad and Gamzee aren’t in your line of sight, so you slowly creep out, staying low and gripping the hilt of your knife tightly.

The only sign that anything had happened is a broken bowl in the middle of the kitchen, and the slightly open front door. You can vaguely hear talking outside the building as you make your way to the front, not at all sounding like an argument, or anything of the sort...

A frown tugs your lips, moving your feet quicker and staying below the windows, until you reach the largest next to the door. You peek up over, but can only see Crabdad’s hulking form, and maybe Gamzee’s mop of a head next to your surrogate parent’s shoulder, but you can’t be sure, so creep for the door, easing that open with the same care as you had with the other.

Gripping your knife tighter, you try to sneak out unnoticed by your family, and the apparent stranger, but no such luck, your brother whipping around at the sound of pebbles being displaced by your feet, a wide grin spreading across his face. You barely have time to make a sound of confusion before you’re yanked completely outside and into your brother’s arms.

Squeaking, you feel Gamzee spin you around to face the other figure in the trio outside the restaurant. You blink in surprise as a young man you’ve never met before smiles at you slightly, but there’s this... striking familiarity about him.

“Karkat, that’s no way to greet family.” Crabdad snatches your knife from you and tucks it into the string-belt around his apron, before turning a smile on the stranger.

You send him an incredulous look. “Family?” you repeat with a slight growl, annoyed Gamzee hasn’t set you back on your feet yet.

The stranger smiles just a bit more, and holds out a hand. You hesitate before taking it, quirking an eyebrow at his slightly... weak grip. That done, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his black pants under the florescent red sweater he wears. “My name is Kankri,” he says with a lovely tenor voice that would immediately make you relax had it not been for the almost blatant use of Runner powers.

“Karkat.” His smile widens. “I don’t recognize you.”

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“I’ve never spoken to you.” Smile faltering just a little, you can sense his hurt, before it’s badly covered up by a brighter smile.

“Of course you have! I sent letters to you all the time!” You shake your head.

“Nope, sorry.” His smile disappears completely, and you think you sense a familiar, built up rage behind his almost-stoic expression.

“Did they never give you my letters?”

“They being...?”

“Our parents, Karkat.” You purse your lips into a firm line.

“My parents.”

“Ours. Karkat, I’m your broth-”

“You’re lying!” You struggle out of Gamzee’s arms until you land on the pebbles beneath you. Everyone looks taken aback by your outburst, and you make sure to seal off your mind from allowing Gamzee to read any of your thoughts. “I don’t have a brother! Much less one who’s a Runner! If I did, he would have been there to stop this entire clusterfuck! He would have been around to take in his younger brother! If Crabdad hadn’t been around, I wouldn’t be here right now!” Kankri takes a little step back as you do the opposite, stepping closer to him, rage bubbling through you at the thought that this... person abandoned you. “So, no. I have no brother besides Gamzee.” With that, you turn around, snatching your knife back from Crabdad and heading into the restaurant.

You slam the door behind you, refraining from stomping to the back room, though slam that door as well. You’re not very surprised to see Sollux and Dave still there, Dave with her watches out in her hands.

“Karkat?” she asks, cocking her head at your expression. “What happened?” You toss your knife carelessly onto your trunk.

“Nothing.”

“Then why did Gamzee yell like that?”

“They wanted me to meet someone,” you growl, sitting gruffly on the bed.

“Someone who apparently pisses you off.” Dave puts away her watches, sitting across from you again. Sollux joins her instead of your this time, watching you with concern. The last thing you want to do right now is talk about this, but they have a right to know, don’t they?

“My brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Sollux says immediately, but Dave’s eyes widen for a moment, before her eyebrows furrow, remaining silent.

“Neither did I.” You cross your arms angrily, glancing at Dave. “You knew?”

“I read your file; of course I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think I needed to. I mean, I found it a little weird that you weren’t staying with him instead of Crabdad, but I just... thought you knew.”

“I’ve never met him before. And apparently we’ve been exchanging letters, which we haven’t.”

“Who’s he been writing to then?” You shrug and shake your head.

“And it’s not like I give a shit.”

“He’s your brother.” Your fists clench.

“Who was never fucking around! He’s a Runner, and he never fucking said anything!”

“Karkat,” Dave sighs, sitting up straight. “Maybe he said something in the letters. He was just sending them to the wrong person.”

“Someone who knew how to act as me, apparently.” You blink as a thought strikes you, jumping back to your feet. “Fuck.”

“What?” Your friends rise with you, looking concerned. You shake your head at them and move quickly back out to the front, where your family, and Kankri are still standing.

“Where have you been sending the letters?” you demand of your supposed brother, who blinks in surprise at your return, then looks over your shoulder at your friends, who have quickly followed you.

“Somewhere within the city. I only found out that you were staying here yesterday.”

“Where within the city?” His eyebrows furrow.

“Near the downtown area, close to where we use to live.”

“I need to know exactly where, turtleneck,” you snap, and you sense his hurt again.

“A small apartment next to Anis Apothecary.” You whip around to look at Gamzee.

“Meenah’s back. She’s been back for a while.”

 


	14. Back Story: Cancer and Nulls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus since last update. Longer chapter as apology.  
> There is some OOCness, but it's purposeful and will get better, I promise. I hope that doesn't bother you guys too much :/

 

BE BOTH THE PSIONIC AND THE REDHEAD, AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN

 

"Isn't it... dangerous to be going into the city?" Sollux mumbles self-consciously, leaning in close to speak quietly to Karkat, who stands next to him on the crowded inter-city tram, fingers gripped around the handles above them.

"Of course it is," Karkat responds simply, eyes a bit blank as he watches out the window in front of him. "I still have things to do, though, and they aren't going to do themselves." He gives a weak shrug, causing Sollux to sigh softly.

They'd left Crabdaddy's early that morning, bags packed for several days. Dave had left just after them, off to find her brother and make sure nothing had happened to him, and hopefully to find more information on Meenah. Sollux still has no idea what Karkat's... history is with her, but he seems slightly panicked, constantly shifting from foot to foot. Something about this whole situation is putting him so on edge, and Sollux just wants to figure out what.

Past relationship, maybe? The psionic has no frame of reference for the heiress' age, so that's entirely possible... Childhood friends seemed not very likely at all, and Sollux wouldn't really bet on them being a couple, so he settles on enemies. Aside from the obvious need for animosity between them, Karkat being a Runner, and Meenah being the daughter of the Empress, there had to be something... else to make their relationship that much worse.

"Sollux, this is our stop." He blinks back to reality, and looks down at Karkat, who's tugging at his sleeve impatiently for him to get off the tram. Sollux sighs and follows him off, sticking close to the redhead in fear of falling too far behind in the crowd of city goers.

It's strange, being back among normal people. It's even stranger to thank that Sollux  _isn't_  a normal person, and the thousands upon thousands of people that swarm around them are just so... ordinary. Sollux finds it hard to remember the time so recently that he wouldn't even be thinking these thoughts, that it would never even occur to him that all these people have lives, and families, and something to protect, but not in the way he and Karkat do. Their lives don't hang in the balance of going undetected, of not being seen by the wrong people, of being unaware. He's more than a little frightened by this.

Karkat latches his fingers onto Sollux's sleeve and steers him down a long, dark alley just outside the station, stepping around rancid trash and a few homeless people. No words are passed between the companions until Karkat leads him to a peeling, black-painted door adjacent to the alley, a grimy cement step leading to the threshold.

"So, uhm, there's a few... unsavory characters that hang around this place," Karkat warns him, glancing a bit nervously at the door. "Don't talk to anyone, don't make eye contact with anyone, and try not to be too jumpy." Sollux blinks, frowning a little, but nodding.

"How long are we going to be here?" he asks nervously.

"A couple days at most. Kankri promised to mail out a letter this morning, and Meenah doesn't live here, so she'll... be checking in sometime in the next few days, I'm sure."

"And...  _where_  exactly are we staying?" Karkat gestures vaguely up at a window a story or two above the door before turning the rusting knob and letting the two of them inside.

Sollux is immediately hit with pungent scents there's no way he'll be able to place, but he's sure there's licorice, garlic, and something a bit like blood. He looks around as Karkat silent leads him in, eyes flickering over the peeling paint and grimy surfaces absolutely everywhere. They appear to be behind the counter of some store (the Apothecary did he call it?), the floor littered with dirty papers and books nigh but falling apart. Over the counter, Sollux sees shelf after shelf of jars and clear containers full of substances and objects he has little clue of as to their purpose. The shop is empty, except for a gruff, white-haired man in a soiled green and white suit passed out behind the counter in a rickety chair, and another man sitting in the corner of the shop, just leering around the dark corners.

Sollux walks a step closer to Karkat as the awake-man's eyes fall on them, latching onto Karkat's sleeve instead this time.

Karkat glances at him before going over the suited man and kicking his leg. When that earns no reaction, Karkat grabs a glass full of dingy-colored liquid off of the counter and splashes it in his face. Almost immediately, the man jerks with a surprised yell, swinging his remarkably-round head around to blink wetly up at Karkat.

"An' what the bloody hell da ya want?" he demands, spluttering a little as he wipes off his face.

"Scratch, you've been delivering letters to Meenah." It's not a question, and the man stills for a long moment, before turning to bark at the other occupant of the shop.

"You! Out!" The man growls, but gets up and leaves the shop, flipping Scratch and the boys off before doing so.

Scratch huffs angrily and focuses his attention back on Karkat, though it's quickly diverted to Sollux with a stubbly eyebrow raised in surprise. Sollux shrinks back a little from his intense gaze, stepping just a little to the side to be further behind Karkat.

"Wha', 'this Mituna's devilspawn?" Karkat splashes the rest of the contents of the glass all over his face again.

"No,  _this_  is Sollux, but funny you should ask, because it seems you're playing both hands, Scratch." Scratch throws back his head and laughs.

"Wha', for delivering letters ta Meenah? Hah! Yer sorely mistaken, my Cancerousatious friend." He waggles a finger at Karkat with a sneer, leaning his elbow on his knee. Karkat raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. "While I'd be very alright to be makin' a little off a both sides, I don' switch loyalt's so easy."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Ya haven' seen Meenah since yer little... fallin' out, have ya?" Sollux watches as Karkat's face pales a little, quickly growing icy and dangerous, advancing on Scratch whilst pulling out his blade. Scratch immediately tenses up, sitting back and glaring at Karkat. "Ya know better than ta bring that in 'ere."

"I honestly couldn't care less right now, so just fucking explain already, alright? No riddles, no fucking half-truths, no nothing. Just answer my questions." Scratch's glare turns to a sneer.

"Meenah s'not what all she seems, y'hear? I've not done anythin' wrong by passin' along her letters." Karkat bears his teeth and puts the tip of his blade barely an inch away from Scratch's throat. Blinking in surprise, Sollux marvels at the way Scratch's entire being recoils from the simple action, leaning as far back from the blade as he can.

"I'll be taking over your spare room for a few days," he hisses. "You're to tell absolutely  _no one_  that we're here, and you're to alert us the moment Meenah arrives. And-," he moves the blade closer when Scratch tries to speak. "don't tell us that she won't. She will." Scratch's adam's apple bobs up and down for a moment, before his glare returns.

"Fine, if ya say so."

"And over dinner, you can tell us all about why I should fucking trust Meenah." Karkat pulls back his blade and resheaths it, before heading towards a door further behind the counter and beckoning to Sollux over his shouler.

Sollux barely catches Scratch's mumble of, "Nev'r said you could trust her," as the man rubs at his throat.

 

Karkat leads him up a curving, precarious staircase to what would look like an attic if it wasn't so nicely furnished, with carpets so plush the psionic nearly bounces as he steps off the last stair. There's two, twin-sized beds against one wall, a fireplace and armchairs in front, along with a table in the corner with two chairs tucked under it. The splintery walls are hidden behind tapestries far out of their time, much like the very shop itself, and Sollux swears the laps on the bedside tables are oil.

"So, uhm, this is where we'll be staying for the next few days." Karkat drops his bag onto his bed and sits down awkwardly, not making eye contact with his friend.

Sollux of course notices immediately, sighing a little to himself and claims the other bed, sitting down at well. "So, you wanna tell me what that was all about?" he asks after a long period of silence.

"Scratch is a bit... slimy when it comes to loyalties, and I've always known he's been doing things behind the Runners' backs, despite being one himself, and it's... Well, very complicated."

"No, I meant, what did he mean by your 'falling out' with Meenah?" Karkat visibly cringes, pulling down his sleeves a little more.

"We... uh, grew up together, I guess you could say. She helped me a lot r-right after Crabdad took me in, so we know each other pretty well. She didn't ever mention she was working for the Batterwitch. Crabdad opened Crabdaddy's soon after that, as an... alias, I guess. Meenah was sent to Propsit not long after, and I started going by Karkat again." He shrugs a little while Sollux makes an indignant sound.

"She was working for the Batterwitch the whole time she knew you? But you just said you two knew each other really well?"

"Yeah, she knows  _me_  really well. I guess I didn't know her well enough." He sighs and shakes his head, taking off his shoes before padding over the stairs. He closes a trapdoor Sollux hadn't noticed before, then comes back to the bed and kicks his bag off of the mattress as he lays out on it.

Sollux sighs and removes his own shoes before laying down as well. A contented sigh leaves his throat as he realizes he hasn't slept on a proper bed in over a week, not having noticed how much he missed a legitimate mattress.

Karkat smiles as if he knows his thoughts, looking up at the ceiling with his arms tucked behind his head. "So, uhm, sorry for not telling you the whole story, but hopefully, you won't need to know at all." Sollux's demi-happy mood fades with a sigh.

"Well, I'd hoped we were at the point where we trust each other with shit like that."

"Sollux, I've known you a week. We're not at the point of anything," Karkat says bitterly, rolling over and shifting so he's under the blankets. He keeps shifting around, and it takes Sollux a moment to realize he's taking off his jeans under the covers.

He hardly thinks that's necessary, considering Sollux doesn't give a fuck if he's seen pantless by Karkat (haven't they done that already?), but he guesses he'll leave Karkat to his insecurities.

"You can turn off the light whenever you want to sleep, but I'll be resting now," Karkat says to the silent room, just causing Sollux to sigh again and get up to switch off the light.

 

BE THE FITFULLY-SLEEPING PSIONIC

 

You turn over with a low groan, head pounding like a thousand knives. You don't even know where you are anymore, swimming through oily-blackness that leaves a rotten taste on the back of your tongue. You feel like someone is calling your name, like someone did last time, but it's like they're whispering from across a football field, like you can see their lips move and not hear a thing, and yet, you can't see anything. There's a warm feeling on your forehead, but you're not sure if that's normal, something coming from your headache, or someone making that happen. You honestly have no clue of anything anymore, and that perhaps scares you more than the headache itself.

You lay like that for who knows how long, when suddenly, the pain spikes, and you're pretty sure you scream, but the sound is lost in the inky darkness pressing against you and constricting you completely. You think you scream again, but no... maybe that was someone else? Why would that be someone else?

You're now scared for an entirely different reason, trying to curl up tighter and keep quiet, to hide from whatever is hurting you, but you can't move an inch, which only causes you to resist the immobility more, and you think you scream again.

Then suddenly, it all disappears, the warmth on your forehead being the first thing your muddled mind can focus on. You struggle to gain eyesight again, gaze darting around the room you recognize as the one Karkat had led you into the night before. But it's in ruins now, the chairs in scattered pieces around the room, glass from the windows and lamps littering the now-dusty carpet. You can vaguely make out someone's crumpled form in the midst of the remains of the table across the room, and your stomach immediately drops upon recognizing a head of red hair.

You open your mouth to call to karkat, but no sound but a hoarse croak leaves your lips, and someone standing over you shushes you.

You pull your eyes upwards to find that someone, having to take a moment to process all the yellow that invades your vision, and at the curly bangs that hang down so low, you can't see her eyes. You make a confused noise this time, the yellow figure's lips curling up into a gentle smile and shushing you again, but how the hell can they be smiling like that? Fuck, something happened to Karkat and you're just.  _Laying_. Here.

"Don't move just yet, Sollux," a woman's voice says softly, stroking through the hair on your forehead and trying to act calm, but you can see her look to Karkat's body with a tight look of worry. "Everything'll be fine, just lay still for a while longer, alright?" After a moment, in which you think she concedes you won't move, she moves carefully across the room towards Karkat.

You ache to follow her, but you don't think you could move if you tried, instead pulling your lower lip into your teeth to chew at it, watching as the yellow-clad woman kneels down and carefully shifts Karkat out of the splintered wood.

There's a slam from somewhere near the wall by your head, and you hear someone panting as if scared for their life. Another figure comes into view, rushing over to Karkat, and it's a wonder to you this newcomer doesn't trip over the braids that reach the floor, because goddamn.

 _No_ , you scold yourself and focus back on the frantic, hushed voices as the braided being, who you now see to be a woman, lifts Karkat up into her arms and heads back towards the trapdoor. You make a sound of protest, but the yellow-woman comes back over to you and takes up your vision again, crouching down next to the bed and putting hand on your forehead again.

"Sleep, Sollux. Karkat will be alright; he's in good hands." Something tugs at the back of your eyes, and you think it's exhaustion, but you can't fall asleep now. Something happened, something happened to Karkat, and you're so confused, but then the woman shhes you, and you can't stay awake any longer.

You hope this time you're not asleep if something happens.

 

BE THE FRANTIC BRAIDED FIGURE

 

You expertly hop down the steps to the wreck that is the shop below, ignoring the crazed and angry shouts of Scratch as you head to his personal rooms, refusing to look down at the body in your arms.

Jesus, he's grown so much since the last time you'd seen him, and you hate that the first new image you have of him is broken and bleeding in Mituna's arms. God, this sucks fucking crab dick.

You growl to yourself and use your leg to kick everything off of Scratch's lone table, wrinkling your nose at the smell of knock-off tobacco and half-fermented alcohol. Once it's clear, you gently set Karkat onto the tabletop and start searching around the room for a first aid kit. Worry bubbles in your chest, but you try to ignore it, wanting to put off looking at Karkat for as long as possible.

You're thankfully given even more time as Mituna rushes into the room, bringing the sought-after first aid kit. She offers you a tight smile before going straight to Karkat.

"How's Sollux?" you find yourself asking, not looking up from the chest you'd been searching through.

"He'll be fine if he rests for a while. You probably won't be able to stay until he wakes up."

"Good, because I want to wring his fucking neck."

"Meenah!" Mituna snaps at you, drawing your gaze reluctantly upward.

"What?" you snap back.

"You know Sollux couldn't help it! Now get off your ass and help me." You make a strangled noise, but obey and get to your feet, heading over to the table. You cringe at the sight, having to say your goodbyes to all of your fantasies of yours and Karkat's reunion being a peaceful one, full of hugs and everything else.

"How bad is he?" you ask after a moment of silence from both parties.

"Well, maybe if you'd help me, I'd know." Mituna sends you a glare, which you cringe back from, before helping her cut away the singed remains of Karkat's hoodie and shirt. You immediately pull your hands back when you see the nasty burn in the center of Karkat's chest, the edges tinged with ice-blue and cherry-red. "Start on his head for me, will you?" she asks, but really demands, now focused on Karkat's chest completely. You take a moment to get use to the fact Mituna's not being a spastic fuck, before grabbing some gauze and bandages from the kit.

You find a sink and fill it with warm water, bringing it back to wash out the blood from Karkat's head wound (three wounds, but you're prefer not to think about that) and his hair. It takes you a while, but it's a somewhat welcome diversion from having to look further down Karkat's body. You get him patched up soon enough, finally having to look down.

You're relieved Mituna works fast, Karkat's chest almost completely clean with a large gauze pad over the wound. You obey your companion's silent command to help her get Karkat into a sitting position, Mituna winding the remainder of the bandages around him to keep the gauze in place.

As soon as you're done, you step away from the table completely, arms behind your back and your hands tugging nervously at your braids. You hope Karkat doesn't wake up for a while; he's not going to be at all happy to see you, and will probably try to kill you despite his wounds.

Mituna glances up at you, and sighs a little. "Help me get him to the bed, then you can leave." You really don't want to do that, leave, you mean, but you still step back forward to gently lift Karkat back up. You carry him the short distance to the bed, hearing Scratch shouting obscenities from outside the door, and Mituna leaving to go calm down the washed-up bastard.

You tuck Karkat in and clean up a little bit, though you know you're just stalling. You glance back at the bed and get a pang in your chest, causing your throat to tighten. You just want the little-kid Karkat back, the one you called your brother and could make fun of and make fish-puns at all the time. The kid you could make smile instead of cry after the incident with his parents. The pang gets worse when you think you'll probably never have that again with you.

You swallow and set your jaw, heading over to the door to leave. You're turning the knob when there's a hoarse groan from the bed, and you immediately whip around to look. Your eyes meet Karkat's, and for a split-second, he doesn't recognize you, but you see it click in his irises, and are already out the door by the time he can get your name out.

 

BE THE ROUSING, VERY ACHY PSIONIC

 

You distinctly remember the room being in disarray, but what greets your freshly-opened yes is the exact antithesis of that.

Everything is in order, the carpets clean, breakfast laid out on the table, chairs parked in front of the unlit fireplace. But everything is too... new. The window above the table is clean and polished, the table shines with new varnish, and the chairs look like they've never been sat in. You feel like you're on a new mattress as well, but you can't be sure.

You make a hoarse sound of confusion, blinking a few times before looking to your left instead. Yep. The beds are new too, and there are actual lamps on the new nightstands, plugged into the wall and everything. The bed next to yours looks nigh unused as well, but didn't your companion sleep there? Your companion. Shit.

You jolt up into a sitting position, looking frantically around the room and trying to form words, but they all seem latched in your throat, expect for the occasional, scratchy, "Karkat." Where the fuck is he.

You swing your feet out of the blankets, using the bed as support as you force yourself to your feet, teetering balance only allowing you to stand for a few minutes before you can even think about trying to walk. You force yourself too, though, and soon, you've made it to the trapdoor, which is luckily open, because you don't think you have the strength to lift it.

You ease your way down the steps, one hand on the wall and one hand on the banister to balance yourself. You realize you're sockless when you reach the cold hardwood floors of the downstairs, pale yellow light making lines across the floor. It can't be too early in the morning, so where the hell is everyone?

Scratch isn't behind the counter, and you think you see the CLOSED sign in the window, but you don't think you can see that far. You turn and head for the other door that's next to the one you'd come through, limping towards it. You definitely hear voices behind it, only spurring you faster turn the knob and walk in.

Karkat and Scratch are both at the starchy table in the middle of the rather large room, eating what looks like omelets, and the yellow-clad woman of before is at the small campstove on a table against the wall.

Karkat looks up immediately as you walk in, jumping to his feet and rushing over to you to hug you with one arm. You're confused why he just doesn't hug you with both, but it becomes brutally apparent when he pulls away with a lopsided grin. His left arm is in a sling, his head is wrapped in a bandage, and he has a black eye, his cheek dotted with small scratches.

"K-Karkat," you croak in horror, just causing Karkat to grin wider.

"It's really great you're awake, Sollux. You've been out of it for days."

"Come, have some breakfast Sollux." The woman seems to glide over to the table, carrying another plate of food, as if she had expected you to be awake, but the whole motherly-image is ruined when she runs into the table with a loud swear.

Karkat looks over his shoulder at her and laughs, looking like he's relaxing for the first time in a while, grabbing the extra chair from the other side of the room. You watch him struggle with it, but you can't get yourself to move from where you are, chewing hard at your lip until he has it set down. The woman continues to swear to herself as she sets the plate in front of the new place at the table, before going to a pitcher on the counter.

Karkat helps you as best he can over to the new chair, finally pulling Scratch's gaze up from his newspaper to send you a small glare. You can't imagine why, so you just look down at your food curiously, forgetting for a moment what you're supposed to do with it.

"Uhm..." Karkat sits back down, quickly joined by the woman, and both looking at you nervously.

"Sollux," the woman finally says, pulling your attention back to her. "Can you speak yet?" You hesitate before forcing out a scratchy,

"Yeah, a little." She doesn't seem completely satisfied, but shrugs.

"Can you tell us what you remember?" Karkat speaks up, looking at you intently.

"Y-Yeah, I mean... I remember... headache," you mumble. "And you..." You glance up at him with a slightly pained look. Karkat shifts around uncomfortably, scratching behind his head with his good hand.

"Then you don't remember me at all?" The woman looks at you expectantly, trying to take a bite of egg, but ending up stabbing the corner of her mouth and getting yolk all over her cheek. She swears loudly again, you realizing you have no idea what language she's speaking in.

"No, I... I remember you, yes."

"Well," she says, wiping her face on a napkin. "My name is Mituna."

"The psionic?"

"Yep. It's really lucky I got here when I did, or..." She glances at Karkat, who's staring intently at his shoes. "the seats at the table might not be as they are now." You honestly have no idea what that means, and thinking about it makes your head hurt, raising a hand to rub at your temple.

"What happened, exactly? I don't remember."

"You had a bit of... an episode," she says carefully.

"An episode?"

"It's common with young psionics, especially those without proper restraint," Karkat winces at the words 'restraint'. "so please do not feel responsible for anything that happened." You send her a small glare, wondering why she can't just tell it to you straight.

"And  _what_  happened, exactly?"

"You lost control," Scratch speaks up from his end of the table, newspaper back to hiding his face. "You nearly destroyed my shop, and Karcancer." Karkat doesn't hesitate to throw the saltshaker at Scratch, ignoring his cry of pain and indignance.

You sit there in silence, trying to process what Scratch had said, and what he implied. "I... I did that to Karkat?" Mituna sighs, running a hand through her hair, and you almost catch a glimpse of her eyes before her bangs fall back into place.

"Like I said: it's common with young psionics to lose control. Karkat was trying to help you and you... lashed out." She sets her fork down on her plate, but sets it down just right for it to slide off the plate, and the table, sending it clattering to the floor. You don't try to decipher her swears, watching her blankly as she picks up her fork.

"But I..."

"I'll help you learn to control them, Sollux. So you won't hurt anyone else," Mituna promises, looking at you intently. You glance at Karkat, who still seems to be seething by Scratch's statement, whom in turn looks ready to strangle Karkat.

"What about Crabdad," you ask suddenly, wanting to get away from the subject of you hurting Karkat as quickly as possible. "Does he know we're still here?"

"Of course," Karkat says tightly, still pissed. "Him and Gamzee know where we are and why, and that we'll still be here for a couple more days to see if Meenah shows up." Mituna winces, and you're positive Karkat notices, if his glare in her direction as anything to say about it.

"What about...?" You glance at Scratch, who looks a little more sober than when you last saw him, but that might just be because it looks like he's showered since then.

"Oh, m'not happy with it at'll, but I don' have much say in wha' goes on with cancercrab here." Karkat chucks the pepper shaker at him as well, hissing.

"You're a two-faced, bald bastard, and you'd do anything to stay in my good graces."

"I am not bald!" the man screeches, slamming his newspaper onto the table, gesturing wildly to his thinning hair. "I'm  _thinning_."

"Along with your courage, it seems," he snaps in response. Scratch makes the most affronted of sounds you've ever heard and storms out of the room. Mituna looks absolutely confused, which surprises you, considering up until now, you've thought she'd had a pretty good handle on everything, except for the occasional klutzy slip.

"Karkat, you shouldn't do that."

"He can go fucking himself."

"He could end up betraying us."

"He wouldn't dare betray me, which makes me think he actually believes Meenah meant well by posing as me for nine fucking years." Mituna sighs, eating another bite of egg, successfully this time.

"Karkat, why does he keep calling you names with cancer in them?" you ask suddenly, surprised yourself that the question falls so easily off your lips.

Karkat winces and cringes back, while Mituna looks surprised again. "He hasn't told you? It has to do with his powers?"

"What do you have powers over cancer or something?" Fuck, you have no filter when you're this achy.

Karkat stands up suddenly, rattling the cutlery and dishes, and leaves the room without looking at you, your gaze following him in shock.

"Karkat's very sensitive on that subject, Sollux," Mituna says, as if that should have been obvious. "And no, that's not what I meant. Hasn't he told you the symbol system for the Runners?"

"Of course?" You look back at her, confused now.

"Then you should know what cancer means." You hesitate before shaking your head. Mituna sighs, stabbing at a piece of egg and eating it, chewing before answering. "It means someone's found a null."


End file.
